



mm 

IB 
mm 




mm— R 






^B 




Book , 

GopightN 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Letters to an Orphan 



FROM A BUSINESS MAN 
TO HIS STENOGRAPHER 



BY 



F. L. ROWE 




F. L. ROWE, PUBLISHER 
CINCINNATI, OHIO 






Copyright, 191 i, by F. I,. Rowe 






CI.A305214 



INTRODUCTION. 

When a person plays an important part 
in any action that benefits an individual or 
society in general, it is but proper that rec- 
ognition should be accorded such person. 

These " Letters" in their inception were 
intended only for the one person or "Orphan" 
to whom addressed, and numbered only three 
or four. The recipient, recognizing some 
benefit in them to herself, encouraged the 
author to go on and write some more; and 
later suggested that they be revised and put 
in permanent form. 

The author, therefore, feels it a pleasant 
duty to give credit for the existence of these 
"Letters" to one who, for eight years, was 
a faithful helper, and who in the later years 
of her service took such a personal interest in 
office matters as to make her invaluable. 

No effort has been made to dress up these 
"Letters," and thus give them an unnatural 
stiffness. They are written in the author's 



4 INTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

regular every-day style, and we believe pos- 
sess more force in that particular form than if 
they had been written to bear literary inspec- 
tion. The author's one hope is, that if these 
" Letters" have helped one person, they may 
help others. 

The: Author. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

On Praying 9 

Dancing 19 

Friendship 29 

The Ministry of Flowers 37 

Patience 45 

Humility L 53 

True Love 63 

Mother 75 

Woman's Influence 87 

A Light in the Window 95 

"Oh, but I Promised to Help You." 105 

Nobody Cares 113 

Living, but Useless 123 

A Quarter of a Century 133 

Sacrificing for Others 143 

It Might be Worse 151 



6 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

PAGE) 

Never Had a Chance 159 

Marriage 167 

Uncrowned Heroes 175 

An Educated Wife 187 

A Vision of Life 195 

Idealizing the Real 207 

Friend, Sweetheart, Wife 215 



ON PRAYING. 



ON PRAYING. 

In one of our talks you told me you had 
quit praying. I asked you why, and you gave 
me an evasive answer; but I gathered enough 
from your reply to know that the cause is, 
that others whom you think ought to set the 
example do not live up to their profession as 
Christians. Therefore you become disgusted 
and form your conclusion: "What's the use?" 

I am glad I know so much about God's 
dealings with you in the past. And knowing 
how God has blessed you in answering your 
prayers, I am surprised that you are now so 
easily shaken in your faith. And when I 
recall, too, that you, like Timothy of old, 
"have known the holy scriptures from your 
youth up"; that you have learned them from 
a godly mother, I can the less readily under- 
stand why you have now turned your back 
on God. 

" Shall we receive good at the hand of God, 
and shall we not receive evil?" asked Job. 
You expect perfection in other Christians. 



10 IvSTTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

You expect too much. You expect in them 
more than you can give in yourself. We are 
all human beings — not yet perfect. Perhaps 
others whom you love and respect, and who 
are morally perfect, have also discouraged you 
in regard to prayer. There are many who 
are trusting to sheer morality to save them. 
But you have not so learned Christ. Has not 
your own father done things contrary to your 
wishes, yet have you turned on him? Have 
you always had your own way with your 
mother? Yet you still love her. Has not 
your Heavenly Father, therefore, the right to 
chasten you, or delay his answers? And 
should this cause you to turn your back on 
him, because of the weakness of a fellow 
man? Would you cease to love your own 
mother or father because your own fleshly 
brother had displeased you or discouraged 
you? Is not your brother as likely to prove 
weak as yourself? 

But suppose you do turn your back on your 
Heavenly Father, by your persistent failure to 
pray; let me in all seriousness ask the same 
question that the Savior asked his apostles: 



ON PRAYING. 11 

"Will you also go away?" Peter answered 
him: "To whom can we go? Thou hast 
the words of eternal life." "To you, there- 
fore, who have tasted the good word of life, 
and now put it from you, it had been better 
for you not to have known the way of right- 
eousness, than after having known it to turn 
from the holy commandment delivered unto 
you. The latter end is worse with them than 
the beginning." 

I know you do not want to jeopardize your 
eternal salvation by neglecting so important a 
duty as prayer simply because of your dis- 
pleasure with the conduct of others. Read the 
entire book of Job. See {iow he suffered the 
afflictions that the Lord sent upon him; how 
Satan and evil ones tried to poison his mind 
against Jehovah. Did they succeed ? No ; but 
rather he cried out, "Though he slay me, yet 
I will trust him." 

And has it not occurred to you that those 
who discourage you are themselves in need 
of your prayers in their behalf? You know 
nothing, perhaps, of their state of mind, of 
the loads upon their hearts and their deep 



12 JITTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

humiliation of spirit, so that they may feel 
like Paul when he said, "Christ came into the 
world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.' ' 
Why should you not the rather extend to 
such your sympathy, your prayers, your help- 
ing hand, and the benefit of your stronger 
mind? Isn't it possible that others might be 
discouraged and quit when they learn the 
unhappy impression they have made on you ? 
Would it not be better, then, to pray one for 
another ? 

But I fear your present aversion to prayer 
is because you have not fully appreciated the 
privilege that prayer affords you. Do you 
give it serious thought? Do you put your 
entire heart in it as fervently one time as you 
do another? Do you treat the Lord as faith- 
fully and as trustingly as you would your 
own parents? Do you offer your prayers in 
faith, believing they will be answered? Or 
are they formal, and coupled with doubt and 
misgiving? Have you done your part in try- 
ing to bring about the answers to your own 
prayers? God helps those who help them- 



ON PRAYING. 13 

selves, and every time there is a failure it is 
on the human side and not on the Divine. 
You can not find one instance where the Lord 
has ever proved faithless, but he has ever been 
ready to bless his dutiful children. 

David was a man after God's own heart, 
yet he found it necessary to pray "evening, 
morning and noon." The Savior in his talk 
to his disciples directed them to "pray for 
those who despitefully use you." The Savior 
himself also found it necessary to pray, and 
spent many hours in bitter anguish of heart, 
praying to his Heavenly Father, and even 
"continued all night in prayer to God." And 
yet we murmur because, after a few minutes' 
petition, our prayers are not immediately an- 
swered and according to our wants. How 
few of us are willing to say, "Not my will, 
Lord, but thine be done " ? Paul and the other 
writers enjoin upon Christians the necessity 
of "praying without ceasing." James empha- 
sizes the value of the effectual, fervent prayer, 
and urges us to "ask in faith, nothing waver- 
ing," and recognize our dependence upon each 



14 I^TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

other for that comfort, sympathy and help 
which only Christians can give to each other. 
Should I lose interest in you because you 
ceased to pray? Nay, verily. But rather 
should I pray with determination, that God 
might restore you to your first love. Indeed, 
I would "commit sin in ceasing to pray for 
you," and so I would never let the shades 
of night gather over me without making 
"mention of you in my prayers." 

If you feel you are weak in faith, ask the 
Lord, like the disciples of old, to "increase 
your faith." Nothing but weakness of faith 
could drive from his side one who has enjoyed 
the nearness to our Heavenly Father that you 
have. In fact, the persecutions of the world, 
and even Christians, who may " despitefully 
use you," ought to drive you nearer to the 
perfect One. He only can give you health, 
and strength, and comfort when all earthly 
friends have failed. 

If you have tasted and found from past 
experience that he has blessed you, why allow 
yourself to be discouraged and driven from 



ON PRAYING. 15 

him by the conduct of others ? Has he proven 
false ? You would not forsake even an earthly 
friend unless you had found him untrue as a 
friend. If you would "grapple to your soul 
with hooks of steel" those who have proven 
true in an earthly sense, how much more 
should you prize and hold to "a friend that 
sticketh closer than a brother"? 

We read of strong tests of faith from God's 
Word ; how Abraham was willing to offer up 
his son Isaac; how Moses was hid away and 
preserved for a useful service, and how he 
" suffered affliction rather than to enjoy the 
pleasures of sin." And then consider the 
grand characters in Christ's day — of the per- 
secutions of his followers. Consider what 
Paul endured. Yes, and much of his perse- 
cution was from his own brethren, those who 
should have known better. But what does he 
say as a result of all this? He asks, "What 
shall separate us from the love of Christ? 
Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution?" 

And did these things influence him? No. 
He said, "Forgetting the things that are be- 



16 INTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

hind, I press for ward.' ' And toward the end 
he declared, " I have fought a good fight, I 
have finished the course, I have kept the faith.' ' 
And what was to be his reward ? The " crown 
of righteousness which was laid up for him." 
Will you let anything separate you from the 
love of Christ? To whom can you go? 



DANCING. 



DANCING. 

You told me in our last talk that your 
mother had recently said that she intended to 
let your younger sister take dancing lessons 
and enjoy more of the world than you had. 

Perhaps the meaning of your mother was 
not as broad as your language indicated, but 
it nevertheless caused me some concern. Your 
mother, throughout her life, has been, to my 
personal knowledge, a devout woman; one 
whose life has been spent in the work of the 
church. And from my association with her 
in that sphere of usefulness, I have always 
regarded her as a model Christian character. 
I can not feel that she considers her life a 
disappointment or a regret, so far as the 
influence of the church is concerned. I do 
not believe that she regards your life mis- 
directed or in any sense a grief to her, in so 
far as the church has been identified with your 
life. Any failures that may have resulted, I 
am sure can not be chargeable to the church. 
On the other hand, I feel confident that the 



20 LKTT^RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

church, or the intimate relation that you have 
maintained with your Savior, has been, many 
times, a matter of great comfort to you. I 
do not believe that either of you would live 
your lives over and live a worldly life. This 
may seem pleasant for a short time; and as 
you behold the superficial pleasure of many 
who are worldly, you may feel, at times, that 
they are the ones who are really getting the 
good out of life. But to you, when the hour 
of death approaches, there will never be any 
anguish of heart or crushing grief in knowing 
that your end on earth has come and the end- 
less Eternity is before you. To the one who 
has enjoyed the world, where is there com- 
fort? But to you and your mother there will 
be that peace of mind and that satisfaction 
that comes to lives that have been lived in 
harmony with the teaching of the Lord. 

You will say that your life has been so 
imperfect; yes, so has mine, and I believe 
much more so than yours. But I must, after 
all, believe that the good Lord will reward, 
with eternal salvation, those of his children 
who have faithfully tried to do their best 



DANCING. 21 

against overwhelming odds and under most 
trying conditions. 

Accordingly, when you told me that your 
mother was going to indulge your younger 
sister I felt that it must be an admission by 
your mother that her Christian life has not 
been a success; and so I can only feel that it 
is because she has not maintained that close 
relation to her Heavenly Father that his child 
should. The happiest children of this world 
are those who live in the presence and com- 
munion of their earthly parents. It is only 
those who shun their mother and father whose 
lives must truly be miserable. 

Your younger sister may be fortunate in 
her associations, and again she may not. All 
who are fully informed know the danger from 
the promiscuous intimacy of individuals as 
must be the case in dancing. Those who 
engage in this pastime can not always choose 
their companions, and many a young, tender, 
beautiful lily in human form, the idol of a 
mother's heart, may be attracted by worldly 
associations and led into evil paths. 

The Psalmist has said, "There is a time to 



22 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

weep and a time to dance." As an exercise, 
there is nothing more healthful than the dance. 
I know that it adds grace and symmetry to a 
woman's personal attractions. No one could 
raise the slightest objection to dancing when 
engaged in by women alone or by men alone. 
But human nature is such that they are not 
satisfied, as they were in the Bible times, to 
dance separately; that is, each sex with others 
of that sex. There could be no harm in such 
an arrangement; and the poetry of motion 
is to be admired as much as the poetry of 
language. 

I remember one time a good Christian girl 
in the State of Kentucky asked my father if 
there would be any harm in her dancing. He 
said, "No, dance if you want to — go out in 
the kitchen and dance." She said she did not 
mean that, but to attend social dancing. He 
answered her, "That is a different matter." 
And I am sure he satisfied her as to the unfit- 
ness for one of her calling as a Christian to 
lend her influence to a worldly and question- 
able indulgence. 

I can remember, too, when I was a boy, 



DANCING. 23 

when my mother would refuse me permis- 
sion to join the dancing crowd, how I would 
boldly threaten that when I became twenty- 
one I could do as I pleased, and I would then 
certainly dance. I recall her characteristic 
answer, that she was not worrying about what 
happened after I was twenty-one, but she 
intended to keep me from it until that time 
and she would risk me after that. 

Now I see the wisdom of her strict motherly 
discipline. I used the argument with her that 
she, when a girl, according to her own admis- 
sion, had attended social dances, but she gave 
me a satisfactory answer. In her girlhood 
days, when the people were widely separated, 
they had few opportunities for social enjoy- 
ment. The early settlers were all people of 
sterling character ; pioneers who had moved in 
to develop the country and rear their families. 
Their purposes in life and their interests were 
all of such common nature that they could be 
regarded as one large family. And they loved 
each other with real devotion. The families 
were all fixtures; their lives were open books, 
their characters could be read in their con- 



24 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

duct; their young people were safe in each 
other's company. 

The dances in her days, so she said, were 
entirely different from what we see to-day. 
There was none of the vulgar intimacy that 
is seen now in the common round dance. The 
music that they followed was slow, and every 
movement was one of refinement, and there 
was no bold display that you see in the dress 
of to-day. They concluded their dance at 
reasonable hours, and all returned to their 
homes happier for the neighborhood meeting, 
and rested and strengthened by the change, 
and courageously resigned to the home duties, 
even though it might be weeks before they 
would again meet each other. To-day, as she 
remarked, we have hundreds of opportunities 
for diversion and of a profitable nature. There 
are thousands of our best books for our mental 
enlightenment; any number of good lectures 
and concerts that can be attended ; all kinds of 
hearty, out-door exercises that can be enjoyed, 
and other modern arrangements for physical 
development; and a score of other forms of 
entertainment and wholesome recreations that 



DANCING. 25 

provide a pleasing variety. So that I feel, as 
she expressed, that we need not go back to 
the pioneer days to justify our conduct to-day. 
As a Christian, therefore, I feel we ought 
to heed Paul's advice to "avoid the appear- 
ance of evil/' It is better to be on the safe 
side with less pleasure than to be on the dan- 
gerous side with questionable pleasure. 



FRIENDSHIP. 



FRIENDSHIP. 

There is nothing more beautiful in all the 
world than the happiness and confidence of 
true friends. The world in its comprehension 
of the term " friendship" regards it carelessly. 
There is not the , understanding and appre- 
ciation of it, in the common mind, that the 
true meaning of the word should convey. 
Many of those who are called friends are 
nothing more than business or social acquaint- 
ances. Even the Chinese, whom we regard 
as heathen, in their moral maxims plainly 
distinguish between acquaintances and friends. 
They may be pleasant, even congenial, and yet 
might not be safe friends, in the true sense. 

The world is full of prosperity-friends who 
will do anything for you so long as things 
are bright and sunshiny along your path. As 
commonly expressed, they are friends "as 
long as the money holds out," or your pros- 
perity continues. Such acquaintances are the 
ones who are ready to intrude upon you and 
oftentimes use their pretended friendship to 



30 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

cloak some selfish desire or demand ; the loan 
of money or other favors that they forget to 
return. We sometimes tolerate such acquaint- 
ances, while inwardly wishing that we could 
once and forever rid ourselves of their 
annoyance. 

But it is not of this class that I write in this 
letter. I want to speak of the true friendship, 
that may be as beautiful in its manifestation 
as the flowers that you cultivate in your gar- 
den; for, indeed, friendship is a work of 
cultivation. It is only by knowing and being 
a part of the life and labor involved in devel- 
oping another life that we are enabled to 
appreciate the hardships endured and the cor- 
responding blessings received and enjoyed. 
True friendship weaves a mantle about the 
happy members of such associations ; and when 
I speak of true friendship I do not confine it 
to that intimate companionship of two per- 
sons, but make it so broad that it could include 
an indefinite circle who had been carefully 
selected, and ones whose acquaintance and 
friendship had been thoroughly developed and 
tested. 



FRIENDSHIP. 31 

And Confucius, the spiritual oracle of the 
East, makes equally strong his statement when 
he says, "Hold faithfulness and sincerity as 
first principles." 

But friendship should be mutual and retro- 
active. It doesn't take one long to discover 
the hold, or power, he may have over another. 
And happy that mortal who has discovered 
his influence for good over the mind and life 
of his friends. Emerson so nicely states my 
ideas when he says, "Our chief want in life 
is somebody who shall make us do what we 
can. This is the service of a friend. There 
is a sublime attraction in him to whatever 
virtue there is in us. How he flings wide the 
door of existence !" 

And right here I want to include a beautiful 
sentiment as recorded by Mr. Bancroft, the 
historian, in Penn's treaty with the Indians: 
"The friendship between me and you I will 
not compare to a chain; for that the rains 
might rust, or the falling tree might break." 

However, this letter may be more effective 
if I consider also the friendship as would exist 
between two good friends. These attachments 



32 I,£TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

are not formed and matured in a day. They 
are sometimes the product of long acquaint- 
ance. Better one true friend than an army 
of uncertain acquaintances. What do they 
amount to when an hour of trial comes, when 
the foul reports are gossiped about, when 
reverses come? How ready a true friend is 
at such a time to prove himself. Indeed, 

" Friendship, of itself an holy tie, 
Is made more sacred by adversity." 

Shallow friends flee from you like leaves 

before the winter winds, and you are made 

to realize as never before how hollow the 

professed friendship of some is. But, on the 

other hand, one or two friends are drawn to 

you in an hour like this by an irresistible 

impulse like the needle to the magnet. What 

a solace they are and refuge from the storms 

of life, and what words of comfort come from 

the heart and to the heart! They carry in 

every expression the sentiment of that grand 

old hymn: 

"When each can feel his brother's woe, 
And with him bear a part." 

Our friend Shakespeare, whom you have 



FRIENDSHIP. 33 

enjoyed reading, beautifully expresses the 

strength of true friendship thus: 

" The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them, to thy soul with hooks of steel." 

Words could hardly be found to impress a 
stronger bond. And note that he emphasizes 
the need of trying or testing their friendships, 
and if found true make them a very part of 
your life, so that no human power could ter- 
minate or break these spiritual bands of steel. 
They make life more than tolerable against 
overwhelming discouragements. 

The fond mother, looking into the eyes of 
her innocent child, endeavors to instill into 
its undeveloped mind the power of attachment 
and devotion. Most naturally when the child 
grows older the mother is its only refuge 
against all the little scars and mishaps that 
befall this heavenly blessing. And this same 
devotion properly develops between friends 
whose confidence has never been betrayed and 
whose lives have been a happy association. 
Why should there not be such friendships? 
And yet how often the cold-hearted world will 
look upon intimate friendships, especially if 

3 



34 USTTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

they be between the opposite sexes, with sus- 
picion! Why is it not possible for circum- 
stances to have developed friendships? They 
are just as proper and sacred as those beau- 
tiful examples we read of in the Sacred Book 
or portrayed by the poets and artists. 

I hardly need to call your attention to that 
" Friend that sticketh closer than a brother." 
As a Christian you know him and have found 
him greater than earthly friends, and "a very 
present help in time of trouble." 

Friends may come and friends may go, but 
God lives on forever. 



THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS. 



THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS. 

There is no form of service rendered to 
friends that has given me more genuine pleas- 
ure than the bestowal of flowers. These have 
a lauguage all their own; yet their silent 
speech is appreciated, apparently, by the infant 
in the cradle as well as by the grandmother 
of three score and ten, who sits by the window 
and enjoys the prospect of the gayly-decked 
dooryard and the perfume that greets her. 

We lose much of life because we are not 
content to do little things, as acts of respect 
and friendship. If we could all appreciate, as 
I have learned to by experience, the sincere 
happiness that is given to friends and acquaint- 
ances, even in the gift of a few common 
flowers, we would do more in this easy 
ministry. 

I can recall one season when I had unusual 
success and pleasure in the raising of flowers 
and bestowing them. I picked and prepared 
nearly two hundred bouquets from my garden, 
carrying them to people in all walks of life. 



38 I^TTKRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

I found that the well-to-do person, who was 
compelled to live in a flat building, could show 
quite as much appreciation in being remem- 
bered as those who were poor. I found that 
these flowers were alike welcome to the man 
who stood at the corner selling papers, the 
girl in the office, in the restaurant and in 
other business houses, the afflicted ones at 
the hospitals; and men and boys were made 
quite as happy in receiving them as those of 
the gentler sex. Those to whom I carried 
flowers frequently, and who, in a way, came 
to expect them, were always happy in their 
anticipation. And I can recall several whose 
eyes fairly sparkled when they saw the flowers 
in my hand. And their simple, but heartfelt, 
"Thank you" was more pay to me than all 
the money in the realm. 

I emphasize this personal service only to 
suggest to you and others how easily they 
could take up this beautiful ministry; add to 
the pleasure of others, and brighten life for 
the whole human family. And it isn't the 
flowers of rare variety or exquisite beauty, as 



THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS. 39 

it is the common flowers, that any one can 
raise. The violets, pyrithums, lilies of the 
valley, nasturtiums — these all require almost 
no attention, and some of them will bloom all 
summer. And the pure sweet peas in all their 
delicate shadings can be made to fill a narrow 
line of ground that would, doubtless, not be 
occupied otherwise. 

I have often wondered why so little is said 
about flowers in the Bible. Very few species 
are mentioned, and they are nowhere treated 
from a scientific point of view. Their beauty 
is once or twice alluded to in descriptive pas- 
sages. The Egyptians were exceedingly fond 
of flowers and put them on their monuments. 
Gardens were in use among the Orientals from 
the earliest times, yet they appear to have been 
chiefly cultivated for useful purposes. Despite 
their absence from the Bible, let us rejoice that 
we to-day can enjoy them in all their beauty 
and glory, and rejoice that man's inquisitive 
nature has enabled him to produce and develop 
varieties that show increasing beauty with each 
succeeding year. The poets have sung of 



40 JITTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

flowers, and the artists labor with unceasing 
devotion to bring out the delicate hues in their 
nature studies. 

Life is a garden with every form of growth. 
There are some that simply grow and receive 
no special care. Others are cultivated, and, 
being carefully protected, develop the greatest 
beauty. Some grow by the pathway, and hide 
among the grass and are almost unseen. Then 
there are some thistles, but the careful hus- 
bandman watches for these and seeks to 
destroy them. 

Some flowers are like some people, of ex- 
quisite beauty, and texture, and fragrance, and 
yet unseen, because of their natural modesty. 
I recall the days when I roamed the hills of 
Northern Ohio after the first few warm days 
of spring, seeking the beautiful trailing arbu- 
tus — a small, delicate wax bloom that lay 
on the ground, and generally under a cluster 
of dead leaves. We always had to scratch 
away the leaves to find this beautiful flower, 
and oh ! how fragrant it was ; unlike any other 
bloom I can think of. Then there are some 
flowers that exude their sweetest fragrance 



TH£ MINISTRY 01? *%0W£RS. 41 

only when crushed. How many in life do 
we find who never reveal their true character 
and real worth until they have stood the test 
through suffering, calamity or persecution? 
And there are others that are sensitive plants. 
The slightest breath of cold air or even the 
human touch will blast and destroy their lives. 



PATIENCE. 






PATIENCE. 

As I look back over the lives of some whom 
we have known and contemplate what sur- 
prising changes have come into their lives, I 
am impressed with the flight of time and the 
uncertainty of all things, as relating to life 
and the proper enjoyment of life. It is well 
for us, doubtless, that an all-wise Father does 
not let us know what is ahead of us, with 
certainty, even for a day of time. As young 
people, we have often built hopes that our 
lives might follow certain courses and our 
places of usefulness in the world measure up 
to the standards that we fix when we build 
our castles and picture our ideals. Hon. John 
Hay, who was Secretary of State a few years 
ago, holding a position of honor and con- 
fidence, is quoted as saying that if he had 
known what was ahead of him thirty years 
ago, he did not believe he would have had the 
courage to make the start. And I am sure 
that all of us would shrink from the expe- 



46 l£tt£rs to an orphan. 

riences before us if we knew all that we would 
have to go through. 

On the other hand, when we consider the 
lives of those who are to-day suffering patiently 
and uncomplainingly, we must conclude that 
our Heavenly Father does really give us grace 
and strength sufficient to bear up under all 
these disappointed hopes, or even bodily suffer- 
ing. And the lives of these patient sufferers 
tell us that as they are, we may also be some 
day; so that when we hope for a serene old 
age, free from bodily ailments, we have no 
certainty what our future will be. But how 
fortunate that we can profit by the lives of 
those afflicted ones, and through their patient 
suffering learn to be prepared for any change 
that time may bring to us. 

Just now I think of a strong, brainy man 
of God who stood in the pulpit of one of our 
largest churches fifteen years ago. He was 
a man of massive physique; his face literally 
aglow with health, revealing a noble manhood. 
As a pulpit orator he was a powerful man, 
and he has held his audiences spell-bound 
when he has been wrought up in physical 



patience:. 47 

sympathy with his sermon. I used to sit 
and admire him in all of his manly strength 
and intellectual power, and inwardly wish that 
some day I might possess the magnetic influ- 
ence that he had over the hearts and minds 
of his people. To-day, while he is still in the 
prime of life, he is helplessly paralyzed. He 
can hardly move a muscle and must be helped 
by his attendants even in changing his position 
on his couch. He can not even hold a book 
to read, and when I saw him in his home it 
produced a sad impression on my mind when 
I realized the power he once possessed and his 
present enforced idleness. His mind has not 
suffered and his intellect is as keen as ever, 
but the few words he speaks come with great 
effort. His faithful wife and devoted daugh- 
ter care for him tenderly and lovingly, and 
this godly man is happy in his life from day 
to day. Happy, I am sure, for several rea- 
sons : because of the grand work he has done 
and the influence he has exerted over the 
hearts of others. Happy, because he is the 
recipient of so much kindness from his own 
family and his own brethren and neighbors. 



48 I^TTDRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

Happy, because his condition has enlarged 
even the sympathies of his great heart so that 
he can better appreciate what Christ has suf- 
fered. Happy, because he knows that through 
his suffering he can enjoy heaven more. 

I think again of a noble woman, who for 
fully fifteen years suffered from the awful 
ravages of a cancer. Her devoted husband, 
who was a devout Christian, preceded her to 
the home beyond by six years; and during 
this time she was seldom able to even sit up; 
hour after hour, day after day, week after 
week, year after year she patiently lay upon 
her bed waiting for the Lord to relieve her 
suffering, which some days would be so intense 
that she would have to shriek out in awful 
agony. She told me that the sharp pains 
from the constantly-gnawing, diseased center 
would sometimes seem to flash through her 
brain and almost drive her crazy; and yet 
through all these years that I have known her, 
including several visits to her bedside, I have 
never heard her complain, but she always said 
in a spirit of resignation: "If it is the Lord's 
will I can endure it," 



PATIENCE. 49 

I could also mention another good old soul, 
one you have known by letters received. This 
one, however, has not been physically afflicted, 
but has suffered the very unusual experience 
of being the last one on the family tree. The 
good old soul, while nearly ninety years of 
age, has been alone, so far as earthly ties are 
concerned, for the past twenty years; and 
how often has she told me has she prayed so 
earnestly that the Lord would take her home, 
where she could be with those she has known 
and loved. And yet this good sister has never 
made complaint of God's dealings with her. 

I could tell you of others, and might even 
refer to our good friend Job. But I have 
mentioned these from life for the purpose of 
calling your attention to the heaven-born virtue 
of patience. I speak of it as heaven-born, for 
unless these living examples referred to under- 
stood God's purpose in dealing with them, they 
would not be able to endure to the end. It is 
only Christians who can bear up under these 
awful bodily sorrows; and just as these lives 
are valuable in impressing us with the uncer- 
tainty of our own lives, so, also, do they give 

4 



50 INTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

us strength that we may labor on in our own 
individual sphere, and let our Heavenly Father 
plan our own future as may seem best to 
him. We all need to cultivate the virtue of 
patience. We live through the period of 
youthful enthusiasm. When that begins to 
wane we must develop into the substantial, 
evenly-balanced tenor of life; and when we 
reach the period where well-earned rest should 
follow labor, if it be our lot to suffer as others 
have, let us then be prepared, through previous 
years of discipline, to be resigned. 



HUMILITY. 



HUMILITY. 

It seems like an anomaly to say that the 
greatest character in all history was the one 
who was supremely humble. And yet his 
humility was what proved his real greatness 
and has won the hearts of people through all 
ages. 

In our every-day experiences we seldom 
meet one who specially impresses us in the 
possession of this particular virtue. In our 
human dealings we are so prone to consider 
our own standing. Few of us are willing to 
manifest the divine spirit of humility, for fear 
we may stand in an unjust light; and we 
accordingly defend ourselves, lest we be mis- 
judged or misunderstood. Many times it 
requires some event in our lives to bring us 
to our senses and cause us to realize that we 
must not think more highly of ourselves than 
we ought to think. And if it were not for 
these experiences, too many of us would essay 
to carry our heads too high in our haughty 
self-righteousness, and not be considerate of 



54 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

our brother's weakness. However, on the 
other hand, aside from our desire to conceal 
some things from the world, and our endeavor 
to keep our feelings and our thoughts from 
our friends, we are kept humble in the con- 
sciousness that God knows all things. Humble 
in mind and humble in life. 

There are many people among your friends 
and mine whose outward appearances belie 
their inward feelings. We sometimes mis- 
judge them and call them proud, all because 
they may have a certain independent manner 
about them, and a properly proud spirit. Yet 
these same people, when truly understood, are 
the very humblest, and willing to occupy any 
position of service, not only to prove their 
humility, but because their very hearts are 
humble. In fact, "humility is the root from 
which all heavenly virtues shoot/ ' And the 
Savior, in one of his conversations with his 
disciples, reminded them that "he who would 
be greatest among them must be the servant 
of all" 

As I have referred to the Savior, let me 
point out to you some of the characteristics 



HUMIUTY. 55 

of that perfect man, that we may more fully 
comprehend what was combined in the world's 
peerless character, Jesus of Nazareth. As I 
said in the beginning of this letter, it seems 
out of the natural order of things to speak 
of the greatest man in the world's history as 
the humblest. And yet you know this is true. 
In fact, he could not have made slaves of 
human hearts had he not thrown his mantle 
of humility around all mankind and made 
them feel that they were, in deed and in truth, 
all one holy family, of which he was the head. 

But here are some of the virtues that Jesus 
possessed : he was affectionate, benevolent and 
compassionate; gentle, guileless and holy; 
humble, innocent and just; kind, long-suffer- 
ing, and with a love that passeth knowledge; 
lowly, meek and merciful ; self-poised, obedient 
and patient; perfect, full of pity and pure; 
righteous, sanctified and sinless ; zealous, spot- 
less and true; undefiled, unselfish, courageous. 

Certainly here is a chain of virtues that no 
other mortal will ever possess. We think we 
are fairly good if we can lay claim to two 
or three of these traits; yet this great man, 



56 l^TTERS to AN ORPHAN. 

who is worshiped by millions of people of 
all ranks and stations throughout the whole 
world, is not beneath the service of falling on 
his knees and bathing his disciples' feet. The 
fact that he was the Son of God did not cause 
him to be proof against the human feelings 
that we possess. Even though he was in the 
form of God, he was in all points tempted and 
tried as we are ; and considering this, it makes 
him a still more wonderful character to think 
that the one who was absolutely without sin 
and needed no forgiveness could cause him- 
self to be the great example to the human 
race. We read of Mary, who sat at his feet 
to receive his instruction. We also read of 
the man, out of whom Jesus had cast the 
demons, sitting at his feet. And also of the 
sinful woman who, in true humility, in the 
presence of this pure man whose spotless 
character rebuked her life and made her sin 
so glaring, prostrated herself at his feet and 
washed them with her tears, and wiped them 
with the hairs of her head, and kissed them 
in her penitential love. Did Jesus, in his pure 



HUMIUTY. 57 

condition, resent her conduct? Pure as he 
was, he used this poor woman as a stinging 
rebuke to the critical Pharisee and brought 
out the lesson of true forgiveness. And only 
the truly humble could, in our day, assume such 
an attitude toward an unfortunate creature. 

There are some in the church to-day, even 
holding positions of leadership, who would 
consider it beneath their dignity and calling to 
help the sinful man ; some who would manifest 
the spirit of superiority or self-righteousness, 
like the Pharisee of old, who would say, "I 
thank thee, Lord, that I am not like other 
men." Such leaders will not long hold their 
positions. They may be those whose sins 
have not yet found them out. They may 
seem to prosper for a season, but the Lord 
will, in his own time, send them to their own 
place. A spirit in any degree different from 
the spirit of the perfect One is not the spirit 
of the true leader to-day. But he who would 
be greatest must learn to be the servant of 
all. And I do believe there is real happiness 
in the humble service that David indicated 



58 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

when he said he would rather be a doorkeeper 
in the house of the Lord than to dwell in the 
tents of the wicked. 

As I have already said, the fact that Jesus 
was the Son of God did not free him from 
bodily suffering. While he is spoken of as 
without sin and as one in whom there was no 
iniquity at all, and while we scan each item 
in his many virtues, we are, nevertheless, con- 
cerned about his physical nature — his suffer- 
ings, which caused his humility to be more 
deeply impressive. While he was the very 
Son of God and had power to command a 
legion of angels to give him personal protec- 
tion, nevertheless he meekly submitted to all 
humiliation because he was doing his Father's 
will. And let us ever keep in mind that he 
was just as obedient in all things to his 
Heavenly Father as we have been to our 
earthly parents. Behold this man in all his 
conflicts with the evil one! It wasn't once or 
twice, but throughout his three years' min- 
istry. And if ever man was afflicted, he was 
that one. He was painfully acquainted with 
grief; he was betrayed by his friends; placed 



HUMILITY. 59 

in bonds by his enemies ; bruised on the cross, 
and chastised for our iniquities. He was 
crucified for our sins, and he endured the 
taunting crown of thorns that he might be 
exalted in heaven as King of Kings. He was 
despised by those whom he came to bless. 
Yes, he was hated without a cause, and in his 
humiliation he suffered the pangs of hunger. 
He was compassed about with infirmities; he 
groaned with human pain as he lay down his 
life for you and for me, yet greater in power 
than any one who ever walked on earth. Yes, 
he was left alone, but only that he might be 
lifted up that all eyes might behold him, and 
that all men might be drawn to him ; triumph- 
ant in his death, the first fruits of them that 
slept; a willing, ready sacrifice, because obe- 
dience to his Heavenly Father demanded it. 
Exalted on his throne in heaven, he awaits 
those who, through like humiliation, seek sal- 
vation in his name. 

And what shall I say more? I would that 
I could call your attention to many examples 
of humiliation in practical life. There are 
Abraham, Jacob and Moses, Joshua, Gideon 



60 ^TT^RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

and David, Solomon, Job and Isaac, together 

with the character of Paul. And there are 

living examples known to you and to me. 

But let us learn the lesson from these 

worthies, that true humility is the beginning 

of all greatness; and in the words of Kebbe, 

an English churchman and poet, say in closing : 

"God has sworn to lift on high, 
Who sinks himself by true humility." 



TRUE LOVE. 



TRUE LOVE. 

This is not a subject we have discussed to 
any extent, but one that enters into every life 
at some stage of its existence. True love 
doesn't always continue, but oftentimes takes 
the opposite form, as a result of some bitter 
experience, causing the individual to become 
sour on the world and ever after exerting a 
gloomly influence over others. But true love 
should not embitter itself against all mankind 
because of the thoughtless or inconsiderate 
conduct of some one person. True love is 
rather strengthened and sweetened by adverse 
experiences. The strength of our affection is 
sometimes brought out by the trials that we 
experience, and which help to develop our 
character. True love is not an emotion for 
the gentler sex alone to possess, but one to fill 
the heart and life of man and woman alike. 
It is not selfish nor confined to one person or 
one home. A man does not possess true love 
who loves his wife only; nor does a woman 
love truly who confines her affection to her 



64 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

husband only. These naturally and properly 
are the recipients of the strongest expression 
of true love, but our love should be as broad 
as the very world itself. All who are trying 
to do right, and face the uncertain battle of 
life, need our love, our affection, our sym- 
pathy, our help; and it is no improper use of 
the term "love" to speak of our deep interest 
in others as true love. 

Christians, individually and collectively, are 
enjoined by all the sacred writers to love one 
another fervently. Paul devotes one entire 
chapter in his Corinthian Letter, making love 
his sole theme. So strong was his conception 
of what love to one another should be, as 
revealed in that one chapter, that the grand 
old man of England, Mr. Gladstone, was in- 
spired to write a book with that chapter as 
his subject. The entire life of Christ was 
made up of exhibitions of love to all mankind, 
regardless of race or color. Paul enjoined 
upon us to imitate our divine Master when 
he says, "Do good to all men, but especially 
to those of the household of faith." 

True love is ever active; is thoughtful, 



true U)VE. 65 

thinking of others rather than self ; and in the 
possession of this love there is the constant 
desire to help one another. And when love 
is the basis for our action, such service is not 
labor, but a positive delight. How often do 
we try to anticipate the very wants of those 
we love, and what effort will we put forth, 
or what sacrifice will we not suffer in order 
that we may do something to express our love 
for one another. 

One day I saw a little child, an infant, 
walking by its father's side. The father was 
a laboring man, going home from work, and 
had on his soiled working clothes. The little 
baby was carrying the evening paper and a 
small parcel. They had not walked far until 
the baby wanted to be carried. The father 
picked up the child and took the parcel from 
it and wanted to put the paper in his pocket, 
but the baby clung to that; and, although her 
father was carrying her, she was happy in the 
thought that she was relieving her father's 
burden by carrying the paper for him. Her 
little eyes fairly beamed with delight in think- 
ing that she was helping to bear the burden 



66 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

of life for her father, and he wouldn't have 
disabused her mind or hurt her feelings by 
depriving her of that thought. How true that 
is of us older folks. How often, perhaps, are 
we allowed to think that we are doing some 
great service, by those who know that we 
really take pleasure in doing those little acts 
of service, prompted solely by love one for 
another; and how happy we are, with the 
child-like nature, in knowing that we are thus 
thought of. I am sure there are many times 
when all of us have been saved from spells 
of despondency with some reminder of true 
love from some of our closest friends. 

What is the supreme test of love? Christ 
tells us that the willingness to die, one for the 
other, is the highest test. Yet, peradventure, 
for a good man one would even dare to die, 
and we find in the death of Christ more than 
the literal carrying out of that statement. 
Some would argue that Christ, being divine 
and the Son of God, had to die the death in 
order to fulfill all righteousness. Neverthe- 
less, we should remember that Christ suffered 
in all points physically as we do. Yet, while 



tru:B I*OV£. 67 

Christ was divine and the Son of God, he was, 
nevertheless, human in all points of nature. 
He suffered mentally the same as we do. A 
physical injury would cause him as much 
pain as it would us; and the suffering that 
he endured when nailed upon the cross was 
beyond the power of the human mind to 
describe or feel. We, therefore, have in the 
death of Christ the supreme test of love. 

But are we put to such tests to-day? Per- 
haps not in fact, but there are those who 
would meet the test if it were forced upon 
them. They would meet it unconsciously in 
the discharge of their duty toward the object 
of their affection. Is there a true mother 
who would not sacrifice her life if thereby she 
could save the life of her child ? In a moment 
of danger, in a spell of serious sickness, the 
mother's position and condition are not thought 
of. The safety of her child is her one con- 
cern. Take, for illustration, a young and bud- 
ding girl, away from home, perhaps her first 
year in college. She is taken down with a 
serious disease, typhoid fever. The mother's 
first thought is, "I must go." Perhaps she 



68 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

has a husband and other children at home. 
Perhaps her second thought is, "Who will 
take care of them?" She delays a day, hoping 
for encouraging news. The next day a tele- 
gram comes saying that her daughter is no 
better. Her mother instinct tells her that the 
charitable wording of that telegram means, 
"Your daughter is worse." Does she longer 
delay? The first train she can board carries 
her to her sick daughter at a snail's pace. 
"Will the train ever reach my daughter?" 
She is in a state of nervous collapse. Per- 
haps some necessary delay of the train at a 
junction further tries her patience and her 
anixety knows no restraint. She pleads with 
the conductor, "Do hurry on, my daughter 
may be dying." After a day of mental tor- 
ment she reaches the little station. With the 
speed that lends wings to a mother's love she 
hurries through the streets. She rushes to her 
daughter's side, and as she enters the door is 
cautioned by the nurse to make no noise, that 
the daughter is sleeping. She does not heed 
the nurse, but rushes to the bedside, throws 
her arms about the child, kisses her fervently, 



TRUE tOViJ. 69 

and says, "My dear daughter, are you sick?" 
With a semi-conscious glance of recognition 
her daughter gives a faint smile. Instinctively 
the mother knows her daughter is very sick. 
The nurse tries to lead her away. Will the 
mother leave the child? Not while life lasts. 
And then begins her long, patient vigil. All 
the power of persuasion by the doctor, the 
nurse, the matron, can not move her. She 
will not leave the child's side to take some 
sleep, and day in and day out, for weeks, she 
stays beside her daughter, seeking only the 
faint ray of hope that the doctor, in his gen- 
erous heart, tries to give her. The critical 
time arrives. How she watches every breath, 
the heaving of the bosom, the expression of 
the eye, every motion of her body! Why? 
Because that child is her own flesh and blood. 
No one knows but the mother herself what 
she has suffered to give that child her exist- 
ence, and the very memory of all she has 
suffered makes that child all the more dear to 
her; and she has never a thought concerning 
her own condition, thinking only of her efforts 
to save her child. The critical day is past. 



70 BETTERS ?0 AN ORPHAN. 

The doctor says she will get well. That isn't 
all. For weeks they have been under heavy 
expense. Perhaps they are moderately poor 
people. Perhaps they own just a little home 
in the little town where thy have drudged for 
years to earn and save a little. Does the idea 
of expense give her any anxiety? Does the 
fact that the daughter may be left a physical 
wreck disturb her mind? Does the thought 
that it will put them back perhaps fifteen years 
in the accumulation for a home change her 
love for her child? Not for a second. *'What 
if my child is left an invalid? The rest of us 
will care for her. What if we do have to sell 
the home to pay the hospital bill? We have 
our child, and all the wealth in the world can 
not buy our love for her." 

This, you may say, is mother love. It is 
nature love, but it is no stronger love than we 
should have for each other, if we, as Chris- 
tians, have the spirit of mind of our Savior. 
Can you find an example of human love that 
will bear comparison with the love of our 
Heavenly Father? And no human love has 
reached the ideal, the perfect state, unless it 



TRUE LOVE. 71 

possesses the nature of the Father's love. 
How may we understand the Father's love? 
Simply by the Son's love. "He that hath 
seen me," says Christ, "hath seen the Father," 
and by imitating Christ we will imitate the 
Father, and by loving the Son we will love 
the Father. And Christ revealed his love to 
his Father by the obedience that he gave to 
his Father, even to his death on the cross, 
that being his Father's will. 



MOTHER. 



MOTHER. 

In one of our first talks I learned from you 
that the term " mother " does not possess, to 
you, all the tender or sentimental emotion 
that it does to me. I am sure you love your 
mother just as sincerely, but your love is what 
would be called platonic or philosophical love; 
whereas mine is emotional or demonstrative. 
Each of us loves our mother according to the 
way we have been raised and as our natures 
incline. 

I am sure there is no higher type of love, 
that either of us experience, than that of love 
for mother. I can look back through a period 
of nearly forty years, and live over some of 
my baby life with mother. To me, the recol- 
lection of mother, when she would take me 
on her lap to rock me to sleep again, is not a 
poetic sentiment, but a re-living of the hap- 
piest time of life. You, too, can recall days 
that were as full of delightful anticipation as 
though you were to be queen of the May 
to-morrow. With us, each day was to be 



76 I^TTgRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

but the happy realization of the panorama of 
happy dreams of the night before. We did 
not think about our clothes, our meals, our 
safety — never thought of them. We were 
children — mother would take care of all that. 
The aches, the bruises, the hurt feelings, were 
all mended in mother's peculiar way. And we 
sang, and played, and galloped, and danced 
with an exuberance of energy that knew no 
exhaustion. Why were we so? Because we 
were care-free, honest, clean, truthful, trust- 
ful, sincere; and where these traits abound, 
even in old age, there is that same childhood 
happiness. But oh, what a change, what a 
miserable existence begins when we forget 
mother and cease to make her our counselor! 
Sometimes children can hide their conduct, but 
generally mother can detect at once if there 
is any deception developing in her once happy 
child. 

The worst of mortals have tears to shed 
when reminded of the early home ties. The 
most hardened criminal can be humbled by 
singing "Home, Sweet Home." I heard a 
band of Salvation Armv workers in Louisiana 



MOTHER. 77 

sing "Be Good to a Man When He's Down" 
in front of a saloon, and a dozen or more 
half-drunken men were drawn to the sidewalk 
by the words recalling mother, "who could 
see good in him yet." 

Then, too, there are the little keepsakes — 
mementos — something mother made, or some- 
thing mother gave us. How we prize that! 
How the memories cluster about it ! How we 
recall the happy days, mother's cheery voice, 
her words of encouragement to us in our 
childish delusion that we were helping mother ! 

I made a watch chain of plum stones when 
I was four years old. We would fit the stones 
in a piece of wood and grind them flat into 
links on the big stone by the kitchen door. 
My older brother would cut the stones and 
link them together. For nearly twenty-five 
years mother kept that chain, and I had for- 
gotten it, but when she gave it to me, all the 
scenes of the happy days were revived as 
though a curtain had been lifted from the 
painting. How sacredly mother guards those 
childhood trophies! A pair of little shoes, a 
pretty plaid dress, a little red coat, a wee pair 



78 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

of stockings — playthings for a doll, you'd 
think. Among the precious things we found 
after mother died was an old picture — a 
daguerreotype — of herself when a grown 
girl — a young lady, I should say. None of 
us had ever seen it, and she had guarded it 
for fifty years. And when it was handed 
around, and we all beheld her girlish face, we 
looked at each other in amazement — she was 
the exact picture of one of her granddaugh- 
ters, my dear niece, Besse. And, oh, how we 
all love Besse, not any better than the others, 
but because in her we behold the living 
presence of mother in her girlhood. And 
as I write these lines, on the anniversary of 
mother's death, I can not restrain the tears 
as the tender affections all crowd about the 
memory of mother. Let me beg of you, my 
dear friend, love your mother with all the 
devotion of your nature while you have her. 
Throw your arms about her neck and live 
over those happy days again. Crawl up into 
her lap — she won't think it childish even if 
you are a big girl now. Sit down and smooth 
the wrinkles on her forehead. 



MOTHER. 79 

And in later years what a remarkable influ- 
ence the memory of mother can exert. Her 
picture upon my desk keeps ever young the 
associations with my dear old mother. A 
memory ring, which I wear, has often re- 
strained me. So much for the power or 
mother's love. 

As a prattling child, neither of us knew the 
meaning of care or responsibility. Mother 
carried that, and however great our peril 
might be, we were never impressed with the 
sense of danger so long as mother was within 
hearing. What great trust and confidence we 
had in her as our guardian angel! So I am 
sure we can both look back and recall those 
happy days, and literally wish that Time could 
"make us a child again/' not only for "to- 
night," but that we might make a fresh start. 
It isn't necessary to point out the mistakes 
we all make, as we review our crooked paths 
through life, and realize how this or that 
might have been different had mother con- 
tinued our same confidant that she was in our 
infancy and innocence. 

To-day, as I write this letter (on a day 



80 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

of both happy and sad reflections), I can 
only recall one unkind act to my mother, and 
yet that one time might have been ten thou- 
sand times, because it stands before me when- 
ever I think of mother. It was nothing but a 
smart remark that I made in the presence of 
other young people, and it has continued to 
smart in my conscience through nearly thirty 
years since. But mother soon forgot it, I am 
sure, and never held it against me. 

Then I think of a class that deserves our 
deepest consideration and most careful study. 
There is an army of young people, boys and 
girls, who are early thrown out in the cold 
world. For them life is often an uneven 
struggle and many times the cold world gets 
the better of them, and they find an early 
relief in death. But there are others who will 
struggle bravely on and manifest a determi- 
nation to live a true life, and be useful as far 
as they can. It is no easy matter for a young 
girl in the city, who is deprived of the com- 
panionship, comfort and sympathy of mother, 
to face the indifferent world, and be able to 
carry her head erect. 



MOTHER. 81 

Especially is this true with many who are 
thrown into the city, where all forms of 
temptation are placed before them. And how 
often we who are engaged in business activi- 
ties allow ourselves to be blinded by our 
slavish devotion to business and fail to realize 
that we owe a duty to this class of workers, 
who are craving for sympathy, who are yearn- 
ing for the touch of a hand that would give 
them encouragement and make them feel that 
they are human and not menial. 

I could tell more than I can properly write 
in a letter of this character. 

I believe, further, that if business men 
would concern themselves more about their 
employees, that they would be better able to 
extend sympathy, and more than that, to offer 
words of encouragement, or even make sug- 
gestions that would help their employees in 
all those pursuits of life that will enlarge their 
usefulness and increase their opportunities for 
doing good. 

If they can not be mother to the girl or 
boy, they could at least take the father's place. 

How happy we both are in the contem- 



82 I^TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

plation of a good mother, and to each of us 
mother is the dearest creature alive. And oh ! 
if we all could have learned in our younger 
years to have regarded her as such, and given 
her our confidence, and courted her counsel, 
where we blunderingly followed our own incli- 
nations, or were led by those whose hearts 
were like our own. It is useless now to weep 
over those mistakes, but we can, by our expe- 
riences, keep others from the snare. And if 
we had our pinions broken so that we can not 
mount as high again, we can help others, and 
encourage them with all the power of our 
natures to make mother their first and only 
confidant. We may have good friends, and 
strong friends, but none that will ever have 
the interest in us that mother had. Our closest 
friends may often be influenced by selfish 
motives, whereas, mother's generous nature 
will consider only our highest and best good. 
To you and to me mother will never die. 
She may be taken from us, her work may be 
finished and the Master call her home, but 
there will be no word in all the known Ian- 



MOTHER. 83 

guages that will quicken the heart and revive 
the tenderest associations of life like the word 
mother. We may be "down and out," but if 
we hear a song like "Home, Sweet Home," 
how the tears crowd to our eyes, and all the 
mistakes of our life flash before us. How we 
feel then, like the prodigal son, and wish we 
could "arise and go" to our mother. And 
how often are men and women of good heart 
kept down by the contemplation of a wasted 
life, thinking they can not stem the flood of 
public contempt and face the world again. 
Only this week did I read of a gifted poet in 
England who has given to the world of letters 
some of the best and purest sentiment ever 
worded, and yet in an hour of bitter and 
stinging revenge a political enemy searched 
out his early history, and found that twenty 
years before he had been an outcast. Yet this 
same man, with nobility of purpose and know- 
ing his own powers, withdrew from the world 
for ten years, thinking he would be forgotten, 
and then came forth with his literary genius, 
expecting the world to receive him for the 



84 BETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

true worth within him. Twenty years had 
not sufficed for hard-hearted people to over- 
look his record. 

The hope that springs eternal in the human 
breast doubtless put new purpose into his 
blasted life, and the thoughts of mother, and 
his desire to honor her, are accountable for 
his eagerness to let the world know what he 
could do. One thing is sure, his mother 
would never forsake him, whether he be forty 
or sixty years of age. If she still lives, he 
knows that he has her sympathy and the 
comfort that only a mother's words can give. 



WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. 



WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. 

A woman can either make or break a man. 
If the women of our land realized the power 
they have through their influence over man, 
this would be a different nation. Woman's 
power over man was shown in the very begin- 
ning of the human family, when Eve tempted 
Adam and he willingly yielded, prompted, as 
many are to-day, with the desire to please 
her. She led to his downfall, as many Eves 
of to-day cause the downfall of others. 

I will not take time to tell of the evil that 
women can do, but rather to point out the 
good they can accomplish through their prop- 
erly-directed influence. A gifted writer has 
truly expressed it: 

" Though she leads him, yet she follows." 

The poet sings of her devotion and the 
artist raves over her beauty, but devotion and 
beauty are nothing if woman fails to realize 
her power to sway man for good. Far greater 
than the kings of the earth is the woman who 
will use her influence for good; to the eleva- 



88 I^TT^RS ?0 AN ORPHAN. 

tion, encouragement and help of man. When 
a woman knows that she possesses this influ- 
ence, it is her God-given duty to use it for the 
benefit of the human family. A man who is 
fortunate enough to have the daily compan- 
ionship of a woman of good and pure mind 
is blessed of all men. He is happy in pleasing 
her, because he knows her purposes are good. 
He seeks her counsel, because he has learned 
there is wisdom therein. He subjects himself 
to her in the recognition of her mastery over 
him, that mastery that reduces him to a mere 
slave, as it were, by virtue of her clear per- 
ception and ability to direct his course. The 
Good Book tells us that the minds of men are 
desperately wicked, and most men could, at 
some period of their life, be easily led into 
evil ways by weak women. 

Solomon asked the question, "Who can find 
a virtuous woman?" The English there is 
misleading. The language originally meant, 
"Who can find a strong woman?" having ref- 
erence to strength of character, one of courage 
and conviction; and such, Solomon says, are 
worth more than rubies. A man who cor- 



woman's influence. 89 

rectly appreciates a good woman is glad to be 
associated with her, and is not ashamed of 
the influence of such a woman. Many a man 
has been saved and made useful because of 
the fact that he had a woman of strength and 
character to direct his life. It is not weakness 
on the part of a man to admit that woman is 
his helper. It doesn't indicate that his mind 
is weaker than hers, if he finds pleasure and 
wisdom in her counsel. 

God has made this world, as it were, a 
beautiful garden, and has placed us all here 
to help tend it. He has given to every one of 
us a part to perform. There are some things 
that are strong and majestic in their full 
growth. There are other things that are weak 
and tender. Man may stand forth in this 
garden like the mighty giants of the forest, 
useful and necessary because of their strength ; 
the woman by her tenderness and gentleness, 
filling her place, and necessary to adorn and 
give brilliance to this great garden, 
" Useless each without the other." 

I believe that you realize, then, the power 
of woman's influence. I am sure your life 



90 Iv£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

has exerted an influence over others. The 
amount of good you can accomplish is only 
measured by your desire and determination to 
continue to exert this influence. Far better is 
it for you to use it where it has proven it has 
power than to divert it and lose the influence 
you have once possessed. 

You may sometimes wonder whether your 
life has possessed an influence. You can 
answer that question. My words above an- 
swer the question. You have an influence, 
though in despondent moments you may feel 
your life has been a burden or a wreck, but 
rid your mind of such a delusion. I could 
testify to the influence that you have exerted 
over at least one life. That influence has 
been good. It has been helpful. It has been 
appreciated. You know a life that has been 
directed to the alleviation of suffering. You 
know a life that has become interested in the 
unfortunate. You know a life that has learned 
the strength of a kind word spoken, the thrill 
that comes from personal contact, the comfort 
that comes at night in knowing that some one 
has been helped or cheered during that day. 



WOMAN'S INFI/U£NC£. 91 

You know the person that has exerted that 
influence. And what one woman has accom- 
plished, other women can do. And if the 
women of our land would awaken to the great 
power they possess in suggesting things that 
make men act, in abetting projects that cleanse 
society, they could drive out much of the sin 
that saturates the world to-day. Men love a 
pure influence. They love the encouragement 
of those whom, if they prove worthy, they 
adore. Nor is this adoration sentimental gush 
or superciliousness, but it is the sober, sensible 
impression of clean-faced and pure-minded 
men. 

The vase of flowers that adorns your table 
is silent in its influence, but nevertheless force- 
ful. Their very presence suggests purity, deli- 
cacy, refinement; all the power and mysterious 
handiwork of the great Masterhand is in every 
atom of their dainty structure. Their influ- 
ence is irresistible. So, also, is the influence 
of a good woman. She need not be perfect; 
few flowers are; but the fragrance she exudes 
and the tender sympathy she reflects is an 
influence that is measured only by eternity 



A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW. 



A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW. 

This is a familiar expression that we have 
all heard, associated with one who had gone 
from home and never been heard from. [ 
recently saw this "light in the window" in 
reality on a trip I made far into the country. 
In passing by a certain house one night after 
meeting, I noticed the light by the front win- 
dow of the house, and casually remarked, 
"That looks like a light in the window for 
some one." They told me, "Yes, that is the 
truth. That is just what it is." They then 
told me the circumstances that brought about 
that sad condition in that home. A young 
man, an only son, had gone from home some 
months before. There had been some dis- 
agreement between the son and the parents, 
and the son, in a spell of bitterness, had left 
the home and never been heard from. The 
poor mother had hoped from day to day that 
her son would get over his stubbornness and 
return home; but as days passed, and then 
weeks, she began to despair. Of course, the 



96 L£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

separation only caused her heart to grow 
fonder, and she began putting the lamp by 
the front window, so that if her boy ever did 
come near the house, he could feel that there 
was a welcome for him from the light in 
the window, placed there to draw his steps 
homeward. 

How often have we, in our impulsive na- 
ture, questioned the wisdom of our father and 
mother? How often have we rebelled against 
their authority ? How often have we felt that 
our own judgment was superior to theirs? 
We all pass through that stage when we think 
we know more than our parents ever knew; 
but what an awful awakening it is when, in 
later years, we discover that, after all, father 
and mother knew best. And how many there 
are, who admit this fact, who have not the 
courage to go back and ask the forgiveness of 
the old folks, and give them the affection that 
their hearts crave. Many a man and woman 
has knowingly shortened the life of their 
parents by their conduct toward them and 
their treatment of them. While this is true on 



A UGH? IN ?HE WINDOW. 97 

the part of wayward and spoiled children, it 
is a comfort to know that the love of mother 
never changes. Her heart yearns for her 
wayward boy, and even though he may be 
an admitted criminal, and guilty of the most 
heinous crime in the history of desperate char- 
acters, yet that mother's love remains supreme. 
All others may forsake him, but mother never 
does, and however bad he may have been, she 
can tell something good in his nature. 

And so this young man was not forgotten 
by his mother. He may be somewhere near, 
or he may be on the far side of the world, 
and yet in his selfish nature he will oftentimes 
wonder why the folks don't send word to him 
if they want him to come home, blinding him- 
self to the fact that they have no way of 
knowing where he is. But if he would come 
home, it wouldn't take the neighbors long to 
tell him that mother has faithfully kept the 
light in the window for him. He doesn't 
realize how much sorrow he has brought into 
her life, how wretched he has made every day 
of her life, and his own, too. In his deter- 



98 I^TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

mination he justifies his conduct on the ground 
that they were older and should have mani- 
fested a different spirit. He was blind at that 
time, and will not let his mind be enlightened 
now. He refuses to admit that what they did 
was for his own good. 

Some day he will come to his senses. Per- 
haps when mother has passed her threescore- 
and-ten he will be drawn homeward, curious 
to know if the old folks are still alive. He 
may learn of his mother's sickness. Then his 
heart will be touched, and he will hurry to 
her side, and there will be the greeting that 
has been so long delayed. Then for a few 
short days, perhaps, he will give her the 
affection that her poor old stricken heart has 
yearned for all these years. Then he will 
realize what a fool he has been. Then he 
will plead for her forgiveness; when she is 
no longer able to do for her boy the things 
that a fond mother finds pleasure in doing. 
She will be laid away, and he will then be 
crushed in spirit, and his life be made a sad 
one in contemplating the great injustice he 



A LIGHT IN THi; WINDOW. 99 

has practiced upon his mother during all these 
years. He will become one of the gloomy 
class, of whom the world has so many. His 
children, if he has any, will be morose. They 
will be sad of spirit, irritable, and have few 
playmates, all because their father didn't know 
his best friend when he had her, and refused 
to search for the light in the window. 

Oh, these stubborn hearts of ours! If we 
could only conquer them, how much sorrow 
we could save! There are some who are not 
able to distinguish between stubbornness and 
will power. We all admire a person of strong 
character and of a determined spirit, yet a 
determined spirit, if it be not influenced and 
directed by intelligent action, is pure stub- 
bornness. That boy that tries to feel justified 
every day that he has done the right thing, 
that he has acted the manly part, that he has 
rebelled against injustice — if he could only 
see his mother's bent form, her worried, anx- 
ious features, and could be made to feel that 
he had been largely responsible for her feeble 
condition, he would, perhaps, come to his 



100 Iv£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

senses, and hasten to her side to help support 
her and sustain her in her declining years, 
and be the affectionate comforter to her that 
every appreciative son should be. He does 
not stop to think that every day he is acting 
the stubborn part, he is adding gray hairs 
to her head and quickening her heart-throbs, 
because of her constant daily prayer and 
worry as to where her wandering boy may be. 
And then there are the prodigal girls. Oh, 
who will speak a word for them and make 
them feel like there is a light in the window 
also for them, if they will only return to 
their home and loved ones? Just now I am 
reminded of a dear Christian woman who 
recently wrote to me with the request that I 
search for her granddaughter, who left home, 
and who was keeping them all in ignorance 
of her whereabouts or conduct. In her letters 
to me the grandmother said that the child 
had everything at home that her heart could 
desire, but was simply of a wayward dispo- 
sition, having a desire to be where there was 
excitement, and things that entertained and 



A UGHT IN THE WINDOW. 101 

pleased her childish fancies. She was soon 
picked up by one of those charlatans who are 
always on the lookout for easy prey. That 
girl may think that she has discovered the 
secret of true happiness in this life, but, oh, 
what a remorse will come to her in the morn- 
ing of realization, when she learns, as she can 
not now see, that home was the dearest and 
safest place in the world for her. When the 
afterthoughts come to her, will she have the 
courage to go back to the old folks, or will 
she feel that she is disgraced and will no 
longer be received by them? How little she 
judges mother's love if she thinks thus. 

Then there are, the neighbors and her for- 
mer associates - — how will they receive her ? 
These questions all occur to her anxious mind, 
and she may feel that the only course for her 
to follow is the one which she has so sadly 
entered. Is not a wayward daughter just as 
precious in the sight of heaven and mother? 
Then why not put forth the effort for their 
reclamation that we make on behalf of the 
boy? Why should we not be as willing and 



102 I^TT^RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

as ready to give the helping hand to one who 
has been unfortunate or misguided, but who 
in true penitence desires to do that which is 
honorable and noble? Oh, that our women's 
clubs and other organizations would interest 
themselves in this great work! 



'OH, BUT I PROMISED TO HELP 
YOU." 



"OH, BUT I PROMISED TO HELP 
YOU." 

From infancy to old age there is a human 
craving for companionship. The child that is 
raised alone does not become the unselfish 
man or woman that it would if it had other 
children to play with. An adult whose life 
has been one of isolation is generally unhappy 
in disposition and uncongenial in association. 
The greatest and most telling works in life 
are the result of friendly counsel. Few men 
or women have the determination that will 
carry any project through without the encour- 
agement of a kindred mind. The man who 
spurns the companionship of others is a bore. 
The woman who claims to prefer to seclude 
herself is unnatural. The child who avoids 
the association of other children needs careful 
watching to discover the cause. 

You know full well the meaning of the 
words that I have used as the subject of this 
letter. I know what it means, when planning 
some new or enlarged work that almost dis- 



106 UJTTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

couraged me to think of, to have some one 
say, "Oh, but I will help you." That's dif- 
ferent. What a new aspect it places on mat- 
ters and projects when you are assured by an 
interested friend that he will help you! You 
have doubtless noticed that the most effective 
work along many lines is accomplished through 
united effort. Just one night this week I was 
out with a friend on some reform work when 
he dropped the remark that two persons could 
carry on the work so much more effectively 
than one, because two could go into places of 
any character without suffering or endanger- 
ing their reputations, which might not be 
possible, or excusable, in the minds of some 
who would criticise individual effort. 

A man backed up with the devotion of a 
brave wife has no fears in going to the fron- 
tier and braving all the terrors and rough 
experiences of pioneer life. She would shrink 
from it with horror if suggested as an indi- 
vidual undertaking; likewise the man, because 
his nature is such that he desires companion- 
ship and encouragement. It is not always the 
exact amount of actual help rendered that 



u l PROMISED TO HELP YOU." 107 

accomplishes the end, but simply the assurance 
that some one stands back of you, or watches 
you, and says as plainly as words could say 
it, "Go ahead and I will help you all I can." 
The apostles who accomplished the marvelous 
work in the first century always went "two 
and two." The wisdom of this is at once 
recognized. One could encourage the other, 
and they would have no sense of fear under 
any trial of faith as they would if left alone. 
I do really believe that Peter would not have 
denied his Savior if one of the apostles had 
been with him, so that he would not have 
felt that he w r as literally left alone; if Mark 
could have whispered to him at the critical 
time, "Deny not your Lord, for I will stand 
by you and he will stand by us." 

This old world is constructed along wrong 
lines, or, more correctly, has become perverted 
in its judgment of the human family. What 
a different world this would be if there could 
be the freedom of approach that we admire 
in children! A family moves into the house 
next door with a little boy or five. The little 
boy in your house has picked up an acquaint- 



108 IvDTTfiRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

ance with him before the furniture is removed 
from the wagon. They know all about each 
other, and some more things, at the end of a 
half hour's acquaintance. Each knows just 
how many marbles, strings, jacks, wagons and 
a score more articles the other has. Apply 
their freedom to society as it is and what a 
horrified condition would result! We meet 
neighbors and people in business day after 
day, year after year. They are- never spoken 
to and barely glanced at. We pass and repass 
each other and no words or glances are ex- 
changed. We act as though we regarded 
every other being as a suspicious character, 
and we are going to treat him as though he 
were actually dishonest until he has an oppor- 
tunity to prove that he is in every way our 
equal. This is all wrong. It is a perversion 
of the divine plan and fortunately is not uni- 
versal. But what a different world this would 
be if we could all feel, regarding each other, 
that we are here for the purpose of helping; 
that our success in life is not measured by the 
accumulation of land, houses or money; that 
our real success through life is rather to be 



"i PROMISED TO HEXP YOU." 109 

measured in the number we have helped, the 
encouragement we have given, the sympathy 
we have extended; and we would, indeed, 
believe that we were witnessing the beginning 
of the divine reign if all mankind would feel 
and act with this question uppermost in their 
minds: "How can I help you?" 

You look about you and what do you see? 
A great mass of men and women taxing their 
energies, bringing on nervous exhaustion, hus- 
tling, bustling, crowding, crushing, elbowing 
each other out of the way. No time to stop 
and consider, "Whither goest thou?" but all 
possessed of a mad, uncontrollable mania for 
the almighty dollar, which in the end brings 
only disappointment, wrecked health, and a 
few languishing years of vain regret for 
having lost sight of the real purpose of life. 
Why not, therefore, encourage one another 
that we may be more helpful? Why should 
I not feel, if I engage myself to a business 
house, that I am there, not for the amount of 
salary I may earn only, but above that should 
be the thought, "How much help can I be to 
the house?" The same idea should impel us 



110 l£tte;rs to an orphan. 

in our work, that makes it a joy for the 
housewife to patiently, and almost unknown, 
discharge the duties of her household that her 
husband may be encouraged in his life pursuit. 
One has the ability to look ahead and plan 
his life, whatever choice he may make. 



NOBODY CARES. 



NOBODY CARES. 

It always produces a feeling of sadness 
when I hear the expression, "Nobody cares." 
My observation leads me to say that only a 
person who has become heavily discouraged 
can allow himself to use those words. 

I believe that girls and women are more 
inclined to give way to their feelings than 
boys or men. The latter seem to be able to 
maintain an independence, or a disposition to 
face the world, and take things as they come. 
Girls are not so constituted. They take every- 
thing more seriously, and are more visibly 
impressed with treatment or experiences that 
the sterner sex would laugh at and forget. 
Knowing the nature of the gentler sex as I 
do, I can in a degree sympathize with them 
when they feel that nobody cares for them. 

One way in which to discover our many 

blessings is to look about us and see the large 

number, perhaps of our own relations, who 

are far worse off than we are; worse off in 

opportunity for doing good, worse off finan- 
8 



114 I^TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

cially, worse off in general appearance, and 
all because we have learned through sufficient 
experience to know how to handle discourage- 
ments when we meet them. No one is free 
from knocks, but the strongest characters are 
those who can wave them aside, or close their 
eyes as to so much dust blown in the face. 
Nobody cares for a weak person except to 
pity him, but this weakness can only be over- 
come by rising superior to surroundings and 
bravely meeting the rough experiences of life. 
There is no character, however grand we 
may now consider it, but what has its scars, 
the result of rough handling and battling. 
Nature teaches this. The plants that are 
raised in the hothouse can not endure the 
winds or the storms, nor the drought of the 
summer. They have been petted and their 
constitutions weakened because of not being 
required to endure exposure. But the plants 
that grow in the hothouse are not admired or 
appreciated for their sturdy qualities. We can 
enjoy the beauty and fragrance of the rose, 
but we admire the strength and majesty of 
the storm-tested oak. And so our characters 



NOBODY CAR£S. 115 

are made worthy of emulation because of the 
experiences that perfect us. No true char- 
acter is free from experiences that one would 
want repeated. There are bad spots in every 
life if we look for them, but we make a 
serious mistake if we spend our time recall- 
ing the details of the past, or grieving over 
things we have done. The spirit of the times 
is to forget the things that are past. Paul, 
the inspired apostle, urges us to press for- 
ward — forget the things that are behind. 
And it is fortunate that in the hurry and 
unrest of the world things are soon forgotten; 
and even lives that have been misdirected are 
soon covered up with the good deeds that we 
now know how to do. 

You are familiar with the events in the life 
of St. Peter, how he even denied having been 
with his Master. If any one could say, after 
his cowardly betrayal, that "nobody cares for 
me," Peter could. But the Savior did not 
lose sight of the real worth of the man, and 
he became, afterward, one of the most fearless 
defenders of the gospel. And we charitably 
forget his weaknesses and are strengthened, 



116 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

ourselves, by the nobility of character that he 
exhibited after the death of his Savior. 

But to speak more directly and with an 
every-day bearing, I want to say that young 
people should never give way to "the blues." 

I meet a hideous character on the street 
dragging an old box. He has been about the 
city for years. He will take that box to a 
saloon and trade it for a drink. I go a little 
further up the street and meet a miserable- 
looking object that may have been regarded 
at one time as a lady. It is as much as I can 
do now to even call her a woman. She is not 
over forty in actual years, yet her features 
have the furrows of a person of eighty. She 
is a hideous, disgusting object, whose daily 
experience is deepest sin and constant de- 
bauchery. I don't believe that the strains of 
" Home, Sweet Home," or the innocent touch 
or angelic smile of a babe could bring a tear 
to their hardened eyes. If there are such in 
this world who could truly say " Nobody cares 
for me," I might permit myself to think these 
tell the truth. But such hardened sinners are 
not the kind to waste our time with. We 



Nobody cares. lit 

meet those of our own age and condition who 
are poor in spirit, weak in faith in themselves 
and in God, who have perhaps not had the 
comfort and sympathy of an interested mother. 
There are so many in our big cities who liter- 
ally crave sympathy. Girls who are alone, 
bravely trying to do good and to be good 
against almost overwhelming odds. Boys who 
are easily sidetracked by thoughtless and short- 
sighted associates. And so to all of us life 
is a very serious proposition. 

But I do believe, judging from my own 
experience, that there isn't a person on earth 
who is making an honest effort but who will 
find a kindred spirit ready to not only listen 
to and sympathize with, but also to help him. 
I have had persons, in whom I have had no 
personal interest, come to me and desire my 
advice, consulting with me on most every sub- 
ject under the sun, who would apologize for 
their coming and excuse themselves with the 
statement that they knew I would keep their 
confidence and advise them for the best. On 
numerous occasions I have laid aside my own 
work, busy as I was, listening to their stories 



118 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

and then advising them as best I could, and 
glad to know that my counsel was appreciated 
and glad to know that I could be a help to 
some one who did not know which way to 
turn. There are others who could be helpful 
in this particular line. Many business men, 
if they would not appear so cold and distant, 
could be a great help to their young employees 
if the latter felt free to approach them; and 
I believe that many a young life could be 
saved or its future course changed if there 
had come the wholesome, helpful influence at a 
time when it was yearned for. But the fear 
of being misjudged has, doubtless, deterred 
many from seeking that counsel, which might 
mean the turning point in a life. 

Early impressions have much to do with 
our course of life. How grand it is to look 
back to the old home with the mental picture 
of father, mother, and our brothers and sis- 
ters, all gathered together in the big old living 
room, where we spent our evenings. The 
children worked on their lessons or played 
innocent games; the mother at her sewing, 
and the father busy with his reading and 



NOBODY CARES. 119 

writing. Xo matter where we go, we recall 
these early impressions, and if they have been 
happy they exert a restraining influence. As 
a boy who was early thrown out in the world, 
I am proud to say that I could never yield 
myself to anything that would bring reproach 
upon the rest of the family, because of these 
early impressions. 

Wherever I may go, whatever my condition 
may become, however advanced in years, I 
know I can never truthfully say that M nobody 
cares for me." And you will always feel that 
there are those who care for you ; and so can 
all who, by upright lives, prove themselves 
worthy of thought and care 



LIVING, BUT USELESS. 



LIVING, BUT USELESS. 

I received a letter some time ago from one 
of the noblest Christians it has been my hap- 
piness to know. I have received letters from 
him at regular intervals for years. In the 
letter referred to he used an expression that 
fixed itself in my mind, and which I have 
many times recalled. This good brother had 
been for years an active preacher of the gos- 
pel, and when, through physical infirmities, he 
began to show approaching change, it greatly 
distressed him. With a mind as clear and 
keen as ever given to mortal, his thoughts 
even enlarged and wrought stronger expres- 
sion under his restrained opportunities for 
active service. Later, when a partial stroke 
of paralysis further interfered with his activi- 
ties, his despair was almost painful. In his 
many letters he often referred to his enforced 
idleness, yet not with the thought of complain- 
ing. His one desire was that he might get 
about with his accustomed freedom and preach 
the gospel. In this service was supreme hap- 



124 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

piness. When he fully realized that his 
paralysis had rendered him helpless, and that 
his condition was a reality and not a dream, 
he adjusted himself to his changed condition 
and began to write with an acuteness and 
force that he had never displayed in that line. 
His mind seemed to take on new life, supple- 
mented, doubtless, by the enforced inactivities 
of his body, and the best products of his mind 
were those of his last years. 

The expression that he used and which 
impressed me was this: "I am living, but 
useless." 

Poor old man! Grand old man! How he 
unwittingly misjudged both his friends and 
his family. Why should he regard himself 
as an incumbrance upon his family and the 
church because the Lord had enfeebled him 
in order to more fully develop other activi- 
ties ? You have known such a grand old man, 
and have known that such a life can be a daily 
blessing to those with whom associated. And 
so it was with this man of God. To-day I 
picked up a letter written by one of his chil- 
dren six months after his death, and as I read 



UVING, BUT US^IvESS. 125 

it I can hardly restrain the tears. Having 
known this man personally for many years in 
his home life and in his public life and under 
many trying conditions, I am competent to 
judge as to the value of his life to the world. 
And I know what a joy and comfort it must 
be to his loved ones to-day that he lived a 
life absolutely free from even the faintest sus- 
picion of wrong. How few are there to-day 
who can occupy public positions and be free 
from the wagging tongues and scandal mon- 
gers that infest society. But this good man, 
thanks to his wise judgment and his daily 
communion with God, was able to live in all 
good conscience before God and man. 

Living, but useless! Judge you as to 
whether he was considered useless by those in 
his own home. Judge you, could one who 
had been a part of your every-day life ever 
be regarded by you as useless? Judge you, 
could the one who had given you being, no 
matter how helpless his condition, ever be 
regarded by you as useless ? Judge you, could 
your own mother, who had suffered more for 
your sake than you have ever known, ever be 



126 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

looked upon by you as "living, but useless"? 
Your natural affection and devotion resents 
such suggestion. How pleasant it is for you 
to perform hard labors for one you truly 
love! And how the members of this family, 
of whom this grand man was the head, would 
vie with each other in their eagerness to care 
for their helpless father and make his last 
days comfortable. And how we all counter- 
depend on each other; no one lives unto him- 
self. But life is made endurable and happy 
with the knowledge that some unconscious 
influence or personality is a daily incentive to 
nobler living. 

This grand man has been laid to rest, but 
his life goes on. His faithful wife (for whom 
he worried lest she should be left alone) and 
his devoted children now reach in vain for 
the vanished hand and listen for the sound 
of his voice that is stilled. Useless? When 
his life has led thousands of others to know 
the true way of life? Useless? When his 
fatherly counsel has helped to lift the burden 
from hundreds who were discouraged? Use- 
less? When his very presence has brought 



UVING, BUT USELESS. 127 

joy and happiness into the hearts and lives 
of those with whom he mingled? Useless? 
When his life and teaching have raised a 
family who now rise up and call him blessed, 
and who rejoice in having had a father who 
gave himself absolutely to the service of his 
Master, even though in his last day he had 
hardly a place he could call his own? 

No, my friend, no life is useless, although 
handicapped by enforced idleness, which causes 
others to think beautiful thoughts; which 
causes others to imitate the divine life; which 
causes others to have that sympathy, that 
charity, which makes the world better for 
having lived in it. Money can not take the 
place of heart throbs nor can wealth buy 
personal presence. 

The time will come when dark shadows 
will cross the door of your life and mine; 
when there will seem to be crushed out all in 
this life that was precious. The sun may shine 
forth in all of its power and radiance, and the 
moon may send down clear, mellow beams, 
and yet shadows will come to our lives that 
will darken these brightest days. They will 



128 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

settle down upon us as a pall and fill our lives 
with sorrow, and life's greatest sorrow to us 
may be the departure of one whose life had 
become "living, but useless." There will come 
times when we will gather about the form of 
one who has been life itself to us, and we will 
look down into that cold, wrinkled face, and 
yet will see lines of beauty that had become 
almost lost to us. We may see scars that will 
recall some pain endured for us. We will see 
gray and whitened hair that may have been 
hastened in its change by our conduct, and 
yet we will see a peace and resignation, yes, 
hallowed sympathy, expressed on these fea- 
tures indicative of that love that lips could 
not utter and pen could not indite. It may 
be that then, and not until then, will we fully 
realize the actual daily strength we have de- 
rived from one who was "living, but useless." 
May your last hour and mine be as happy 
as was that of this godly man of whom I 
write. His one great wish was that he might 
die on the arms of his son, who had been 
privileged to be near him in his last days, and 



LIVING, BUT USELESS. 129 

who was given strength to lift and lay him 
in his bed day by day. This last wish was 
granted, and with his heart-strings around 
him in life, his eyes set upon him in death, 
and resting upon his strong arm, and in the 
presence of his aged, heart-broken companion 
standing by, he passed beyond the river. 



A QUARTER OF A CENTURY. 



A QUARTER OF A CENTURY. 

I shall never forget the deep study that 
came over you when I casually remarked, on 
the completion of your twenty-fifth milestone, 
that you had lived a quarter of a century. 
For some minutes you seemed overwhelmed 
in thought, and when you did break the silence 
it was with a sigh of regret that you realized 
you had accomplished so little in the years 
you had lived. I think my use of the term, 
"a century/' also added somewhat to the 
seriousness of your thoughts, realizing, doubt- 
less, that three-fourths of a century would be 
as much as you could hope to remain here, 
and that one-third of your natural life was 
already completed. 

Come, gone, gone forever, 
Gone as an unreturning river, 
To-morrow, to-day, yesterday, never, 
Gone once for all. 

Birthdays measure off regular periods of 
time and suggest to us the practical questions 
as we look back, "What has this last year 



134 I^TTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

done for me?" and, "What have I done for 
my fellow man?" Unless a person can feel 
that each year has brought him a little farther 
on his way to heaven, and brought some sun- 
shine or help into at least one other life, then 
he can really feel that his life has been empty 
for that year. It is not the number of years 
we live that constitutes our service to society, 
but how have we lived them. A few short 
years actively spent in the service of God are 
worth more on the great day of judgment 
than eighty years spent without hope and 
without God in the world. One is full of 
promise, the other offers nothing. The Savior 
himself was active for only three years, and 
his earthly work finished when he was barely 
thirty-three years old. His life was intensely 
active. 

We are all indifferent to the real serious- 
ness of life until we have passed the quarter- 
century post in the journey through life, and 
perhaps it is just as well that our childhood, 
youth and young womanhood or manhood is 
free from positive burdens to us. The obli- 
gations of life force themselves on us soon 



A QUARTER Otf A CENTURY. 135 

enough, so that I believe we are better fitted 
for the responsibilities of later years by enjoy- 
ing properly the freedom from worry and bur- 
dens that goes with our younger days. And 
I believe we can all accomplish more in the 
way of a useful life-work after we have passed 
the twenty-fifth or even the thirty-fifth mile- 
post if we can look back to happy days that 
have helped to fit us, physically and mentally, 
for the life-work before us. 

What shall the second quarter of a century 
produce ? It will find you further than to-day, 
for if you have ever had the poetic idea that 
life is beauty, you have long since learned that 
life is indeed duty. 

"How noiseless fall the feet of time, 
That only tread on flowers." 

And I am sure that the footprints that have 
helped to lead you or direct your course will 
also be in the direction that your impressions 
will lead others in wisdom's ways. During 
the second quarter are to be brought out the 
fruits of all those noble traits that have been 
instilled or planted in your heart and mind 
in the first quarter. This second stage will 



136 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

determine whether your life, or mine, or any 
life, will have been a success. Judging by 
your power to impress or lead others during 
this period, we will witness the realization of 
those ideals that have been objects of your 
younger fancy, and I am sure it will prove 
most interesting, even if disheartening, to 
measure the pet ideals by their present reali- 
zation. 

I remember a venerable doctor saying to 
me at one time that the heaviest sorrows that 
come in life are gradually forgotten in the 
activities and duties of succeeding years. I 
have learned to know the truth of his state- 
ment. I am sure it is well for us that we 
can rid ourselves of the past by the contem- 
plation of the present and future. It is a 
happy condition that we are thus enabled, for 
the sake of others, to 

"Ring out old shapes of foul disease, 
Ring in the thousand years of peace." 

The vast majority of our population are 
pleasure seekers. The prosperity of our nation 
has ruined many lives. A good taste of the 
hardships of the pioneers would have a whole- 



A QUARTER OF A CENTURY. 137 

some effect on the general character of our 
people and the generations to come. We have 
become too much self-satisfied; and because 
of the present ease with which any worthy 
person can obtain remunerative employment, 
we live too much at our ease and do not 
manifest enough of the spirit of sacrifice or 
concern for others; or what is still more im- 
portant, the development of the best that is 
within us. I could name a score of persons, 
who are also known to you, who could have 
accomplished far more in this world if they 
had been early and properly imbued with that 
idea. But their easy-going parents, some of 
whom we have heard remark that they didn't 
want their children to endure the hardships 
they had, have permitted them to live mainly 
for the pleasures in life. Many of them will 
not be any further along, intellectually, spirit- 
ually, morally or financially, at the end of 
their second twenty-fifth year than they were 
at the end of the first. 

We, however, who have learned to appre- 
ciate the value of time, and who are, in a 
degree, awake to the opportunities before us, 



138 BETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

do not measure time by the personal pleas- 
ure derived, the number of years lived, the 
amount of cash piled up, but rather by the 
opportunities for usefulness, the heavy hearts 
made lighter, the sympathetic hand extended, 
and the thoughts and feelings created in the 
minds of those who needed our help. The 
poet concisely states it in these familiar lines : 

" We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives 
Who thinks most, feel the noblest, acts the best." 

Life is compared to a flowing stream. We 
stand upon its brink, and when we glide out, 
will it be in peace down death's mysterious 
stream, and will we be able to say we have 
done well? This all depends upon ourselves. 
There have been times when we have felt 
overwhelmed. At such times many quit the 
race, but we dare not do it. The responsibili- 
ties of this present life, the judgment in the 
life to come, compel us to put forth the effort 
that we may do our best, not alone for our- 
selves and the ones we love, but for society 
itself, and those who are to follow us. If we, 



A QUARTER OF A CENTURY. 139 

through this second period of life, can merit 
the commendation of our own conscience, if 
we by unfaltering trust can turn our eyes 
heavenward and ask God's help a little longer, 
then we should be entitled to a relaxation and 
retrospection of the fifty years we have lived, 
working forward to the quiet, serene enjoy- 
ment that should be the portion of every 
useful, active life. 



SACRIFICING FOR OTHERS. 



SACRIFICING FOR OTHERS. 

So many words have been perverted from 
their primary meaning that we often do vio- 
lence to their original strength and purity by 
our free use of them. The term " sacrifice' ' 
should really be applied only to things that 
are holy, having reference in particular to 
things offered as acts of worship. 

Howsoever, I am using the term in its 
common acceptation, and when I speak of 
sacrificing for others, I shall refer to those 
special services that we render to others out 
of deep solicitude or love. 

There is no genuine sacrifice if not prompted 
from love, and it only becomes a sacrifice if 
we give up something that we ourselves feel 
we really need. Duty is not always sacri- 
fice, yet much sacrifice may be required in 
the reasonable discharge of duty. The true 
mother, for her invalid child, sacrifices all her 
personal or social inclinations. The husband, 
for his afflicted wife, quietly abandons his 
childhood and life-long ambitions, that he 



144 I^TTfiRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

may devote himself in faithful attention to his 
wife. The "rainy-day" nest egg, that he has 
worked so hard to accumulate, rapidly dis- 
appears in his unceasing efforts to provide 
comforts and relief for her. The spark of 
hope never dies out while life remains. These 
are sacrifices that duty requires, but it is 
duty cheerfully performed, because love is the 
motive. 

Many sacrifices are made unconsciously 
from pure promptings of duty or from the 
realization of another's danger. A policeman 
springs at the runaway or snatches a child 
from under the car wheels. The mother 
dashes into the burning building to get her 
babe. The fireman scales the ladder to bring 
down some terrified woman. The engineer 
acts with amazing alacrity to set the air brake 
and reverse his engine to avert a collision — 
all of them unconscious of doing anything 
unusual or heroic. 

But many of us, as friends, perform service 
for others, which service closely borders on 
sacrifice. Perhaps you know something of 
the inward comfort enjoyed in giving of 



SACRIFICING FOR OTHERS. 145 

your hard-earned money for the daily needs 
of some worthy widow. Perhaps you have 
given up some social engagement to spend 
an hour or a half day with some afflicted 
friend. Perhaps duty to any given service 
has deprived you of some greater opportunity 
in other fields of usefulness. Perhaps some 
work that appeals to you as righteous and 
needful satisfies you more than greater remu- 
neration that other work would bring you. 
But in any of these positions I am sure you 
have enjoyed still greater satisfaction in know- 
ing that your sacrifices have been made with- 
out expecting the recognition or plaudits of 
the observing world. How often do we meet 
friends and remark, " Seems strange she 
doesn't dress better — she gets a good sal- 
ary," or, "I wonder why George doesn't 
spend more money on himself." The truth 
is, if we knew the facts we might find that 
the former was helping the folks at home to 
pay off the mortgage, or to send a younger 
sister to school. And our friend George may 
be paying off a debt contracted by some dis- 
tant relative, and his sense of honor and 
10 



146 IvETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

his nobility force him to wipe out this stain 
against the family name. 

We must distinguish between true sacrifice 
and assumed martyrdom. The mere giving 
up of something for the sake of peace, or to 
avoid controversy or unpleasantness, is not 
sacrifice. Unless the heart voluntarily prompts 
the act, it is lacking in the necessary spiritual 
character, and I do not believe it gives any 
comfort to either the bestower or the recip- 
ient. There must be the impelling devotion 
or the recognition of worth to make the sac- 
rifice a happy bestowal. There must be spirit 
back of it, like that possessed by that noble 
Southern Senator, of whom you read not 
long ago, who, in order to save the life of 
his wife, eagerly gave up a quart of his own 
life-blood, and at the risk of his life, that it 
might be transfused into the veins of his wife 
and retsore her depleted vitality. 

The Good Book is full of examples of even 
stronger love than this. The test that was 
put to Abraham when the Lord required the 
life of his son Isaac as a living sacrifice found 
a ready response in the conduct of Abraham 



SACRIFICING FOR OTHERS. 14? 

out of love and honor for Jehovah. The 
greater sacrifice of Christ for the world is 
the most powerful illustration in all history. 
These others made sacrifices for those where 
there was reciprocal love, but Christ became 
a sacrifice for those who hated him. 

The missionary who goes into the foreign 
country, thousands of miles from his home 
folks, possesses as strong a spirit of sacrifice 
as we can behold to-day. The farewell recep- 
tion, the handclasps and caresses all around, 
do not mean so much to those who remain at 
home with friends and dear ones; but to the 
one who is crossing the great ferry, with no 
certainty of ever seeing the home folks this 
side of eternity, it means more than words 
can express. The possibility of foreign out- 
break, heathen persecution, sudden murders, 
famine, pestilence — all of these must be 
thought of when the missionary and his faith- 
ful wife, with suppressed emotion, bid farewell 
to home and native land. All honor to these 
heralds of the cross ! And yet we sometimes 
hear people disparage the work of the mis- 
sionary; that they "are well paid," "live on 



148 L£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

the fat of the land/' "have nice trips across 
the water every few years;" and they try to 
make you feel they are doing more than should 
be expected of them, if they can be made to 
part with a dollar a year for the help of these 
soul-savers. 

All honor to the missionaries of the cross! 



IT MIGHT BE WORSE. 



IT MIGHT BE WORSE. 

The other day I was thinking of my own 
troubles and decided that I had a tremendous 
load of them. Then I thought about the many 
poor fellows who have things a thousand times 
worse than I do, and I told myself to keep 
quiet and quit kicking. I named over many 
of my associates of the past, and I really 
could not recall one of them that I would 
change places with to-day. One of them, who 
had started out full of hope and promise, had 
moved about seven times, lost his job three 
times, lived in five different towns, and his 
wife looks fifteen years older than she really 
is. Another had married, and at the age of 
thirty-two had a family of six children to 
provide for. Two others who had graduated 
in my class had married and moved to a little 
country town, and were lost sight of to the 
world. Another has a good position as a 
drummer, but is away from his wife and 
family more than half of the time. And so 
on among my whole list of old friends. Here 



152 INTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

I am blessed with all that any young person 
could desire. I don't have everything I want, 
nor as much as I want, but perhaps all that 
I need and all I can fully enjoy; and I occupy 
a position where I can be useful in the world. 
And, after all, our real value to a community 
is not restricted to one's self or one's house- 
hold, but to society in general; and if we 
are blessed with good health and enjoy the 
companionship of those who have proven 
themselves worthy of our respect and affec- 
tion, what more can we desire? I appreciate 
fully the blessings and the opportunities God 
has placed within my reach. I know from 
your experience that you also are appreciative, 
and it is fortunate for us that we can find so 
many things to be truly thankful for. 

I have made visits to the homes of the 
unfortunate poor, where there was perfect 
content. I have had access to the mansions 
of the rich, where there is evident discontent. 
Poverty is not a synonym for misery, neither 
is wealth a guarantee of happiness. Sin or 
virtue are not confined to any class or con- 
dition. They are found among the rich and 



IT MIGHT BE WORSE. 153 

poor alike. Sin may be given a cloak of 
refinement and thrive in gilded palaces; or 
it may exist amid coarseness and depravity. 
Whereas virtue, which really means "strong 
character," is often found in the poorest 
homes, where love reigns and contented hearts 
are housed. Poverty alone is not a disgrace, 
nor is wealth a cynosure of righteousness. 

The ability to rise above one's environ- 
ment I think I have emphasized in another 
letter, and the philosophy that teaches us by 
experience that things might be worse is 
wholesome. We might be sometimes thought- 
less and forgetful and find ourselves murmur- 
ing and complaining, when we really should 
be lifting our hearts in thanksgiving that 
things are not worse, and in gratitude that 
there are others, who are apparently con- 
tented, who are worse off than we are. We 
can both appreciate the wisdom of Paul's 
philosophy when he said that in whatsoever 
state he was, therewith to be content. Only 
a Christian can believe this and live it, and 
this is made possible solely from the love that 
flows from heart to heart — not the gushing 



154 OTTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

sentimental effusions that the poets write 
about, but the deep-seated, genuine, friendly 
affection that binds one to another with 
"hooks of steer'; and to take love out of 
hearts and lives would be like taking Christ 
from the Bible. There would be nothing left 
worth while; nothing in life to cling to; no 
anchor for the soul. So long as such affec- 
tion is received, appreciated and reciprocated, 
there is no misgiving as to the real pleasures 
and purposes in life. 

There are many who could be helped to 
something better by a little thought and per- 
sonal interest on our part. We become so 
habituated to "looking out for number one" 
that the proverb is a part of our daily life. 
It is almost a revival of the false idea of the 
"survival of the fittest." 

The thought that "it might be worse" has 
encouraged many a young persen to put forth 
greater effort that he may do better. At the 
same time the same thought has eased the 
conscience of the hardened criminal that his 
crime isn't as bad as some other criminal's. 
But we who are concerned about bringing 



IT MIGHT BE WORSE. 155 

out the good in the human family must em- 
phasize the duty of all toward the struggling 
man or woman who wants to rise above envi- 
ronment, forgetting the past, "the worst," and 
getting to the front with the best. There may 
be occasional riffles or even strong currents 
of severe trial, even physical distress, bodily 
hunger and actual poverty, yet, through all of 
this, if the individual is upheld by the hope 
that ever looks ahead, " sustained and soothed 
by an unfaltering trust," he sees beyond this 
life and can even rejoice, though grievously 
afflicted or tormented, and say that "it is 
better further on," for "the sufferings of this 
present life are not to be compared to the 
glories that shall be revealed hereafter." 



NEVER HAD A CHANCE. 



NEVER HAD A CHANCE. 

I remember the sentence from one of our 
school books, that all men are created free 
and equal. In theory they are, but in practice 
they are not. There are many in this hard 
old world who are creatures of conditions. 

In the days when the framers of the Amer- 
ican Constitution prepared that remarkable 
document conditions were such that a person 
could follow any chosen calling with the 
inward knowledge that he would be success- 
ful. To-day conditions are vastly different; 
the very best business men and the truest in 
all the walks of life may be crushed out by 
the overwhelming tyranny of a wealthy rival 
who has no soul. 

If this could be true among men of sterling 
character and men of strong physical power, 
what can we expect to hope for those unfor- 
tunate ones whose unfavored situation or con- 
ditions may afford them no opportunity for 
being known and appreciated. 

A working girl who has the advantage of 



160 I^TTSRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

a home has an easy thing of it compared to 
one who is thrown early in life on her own 
resources. A strong boy thrown out in the 
world is tenfold better able to care for him- 
self, and make his way, than a girl who came 
from the same home and is thrown on her 
own resources. 

There is no reason why any boy or man 
with a good character and a fixed purpose in 
life can not accomplish any desired end within 
a few years. His ability and efficiency in his 
chosen avocation commands both patronage 
and recognition. 

The unpolished boy from the hills will be 
known and recognized by his eloquence as a 
lawyer. The youth who comes from a little 
hamlet will be consulted when the advice of 
a surgeon is needed. But how about our 
girls; what show do they stand, especially in 
our reckless city life? The great wonder to 
me is that many of them turn out as well as 
they do. 

One does not have to mingle with city 
people long to know some of the dangerous 
traps that befall the careless or weak ones; 



NEVER HAD A CHANCE. 161 

and to my mind there is no person who de- 
serves the affectionate consideration and the 
personal helping of the best men and women 
in our city more than the girl thrown on her 
own resources. And I believe I state the 
truth when I say that my own experience 
has demonstrated that there are thousands of 
good, worthy girls who have never had a fair 
chance in the world. And there are many 
working girls who are willing to take life 
easy, without any serious concern for life, 
either here or hereafter. These are to be the 
more pitied, but they will come to their senses 
sooner or later. But on behalf of those really 
noble ones, who want to be good and do good, 
I feel that I should speak words of encour- 
agement. How can they be helped? 

A young girl comes from the country to 
the city, charmed by the attraction of city life, 
with the impressions made that it must be 
fine to have nice clothes and to go out in the 
evenings. She may be fortunate in getting a 
boarding place with some nice family, who 
will try to give her some good advice. But, 
on the other hand, this good advice may be 

11 



162 BETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

wasted by her association with some new 
acquaintance; she may be thrown with some 
girl chum who will fill her curious mind with 
all sorts of stories of jolly city life. Such 
young and inexperienced girls become easy 
victims in the so-called merry whirl of life. 
The end of such a course is apparent to those 
experienced. 

Perhaps, again, this same innocent girl may 
be appreciative of this good advice given her, 
and form those associations that will keep her 
from undesirable acquaintances and tempta- 
tion, and live a life that will be a comfort to 
herself and a joy and satisfaction to her old 
folks at home. 

But there is an ocean of young persons, 
boys and girls, whose hearts are as good as 
the Lord ever made them, whose eyes are as 
clear and as bright as good health can make 
them, whose conduct assures you that they 
want to be appreciated, and want to fill the 
proper sphere in life, who are anxious for 
good, honest work, free from evil associa- 
tion, and yet who, because of their unfavored 
situation, have never had a fair chance. 



NEVER HAD A CHANCE. 163 

I call to mind one of the sweetest girls that 
I ever met, who was thrown out in the world 
at the age of fourteen, and yet whose early 
experience in married life has served to make 
her feel that all the world is one great decep- 
tion, that men and women who are true in all 
the relations of life are few and far between; 
and yet I am positive, from my ability to 
study human nature, that this same girl would 
be one of the truest and noblest of earth if 
her life had been started differently, assisted 
by those who were true. Her noble womanly 
nature rebelled against the injustice of a shift- 
less husband, so she properly sought separa- 
tion from him. While still merely a girl, she 
is left a widow with a sweet babe to care for. 
She did not have a fair chance to show to 
the world what she could have been as a wife, 
mother and neighbor; she must now fight the 
battles of life for herself, naturally wondering 
what there is ahead for her. Let us hope that 
she may profit by any past mistakes and be 
the happier in her future life, wherever and 
whatever it may be. 

There are boys who are deserving of a 



164 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

better show than they get. What the world 
needs is stronger parents and truer parents, 
who will teach their children and instil into 
their young minds those noble traits and 
manly qualities that will develop sterling char- 
acters, so that when they have a chance to 
make good they can demonstrate their ability. 



MARRIAGE. 



MARRIAGE. 

When I was in school we used to debate 
every Friday afternoon on subjects of interest. 
I remember one week the subject for discus- 
sion was, "Whether there is more happiness 
in anticipation than in realization/' 

Like many other questions that came up 
before our society for settlement, this ques- 
tion was never settled to the satisfaction of 
all, although judges whom we appointed were 
supposed to base on the evidence of points 
produced. Since then, or as one grows older 
and gets into the practical things of life, other 
questions are constantly coming to the front 
that are controverted and the best moral phi- 
losophers can not settle them. One question 
quite common is this, "Is marriage a fail- 
ure?" The answer to that question is to be 
given by those who have been either happy 
or unhappy in the marriage state. It is a 
question that no one can answer for another, 
and no one can safely say whether his friends 
ought to marry or remain single. It is a 



168 tETT^RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

responsibility we do not like to assume to sug- 
gest to our friends what to do in a matter 
supposed to be for life. 

There is this one argument in favor of 
"single blessedness," as one of our writers 
describes it It is always possible for a single 
person to change his condition, but it is not 
always possible for a married person to be 
released from the bonds that hold him. 

Considering the nature of society to-day, it 
remains an open question whether marriage is 
preferable to the single state/ It all depends 
upon one's purpose in life. Most girls at an 
early period regard it as their natural duty 
to marry, and many of them build bright air 
castles as to what their future will be. How 
happy it is that our young can see only the 
brightest in the affairs of life. How many 
there are who have started out with the same 
bright hopes, noble resolves to be useful, and 
whose lives have been a miserable wreck, 
many times caused by conditions for which 
they were in no wise responsible. Even our 
great men will sometimes say, "If they had 
known what was before them when they 



MARRIAGE. 169 

started out in life they do not believe they 
could have had the heart to have made the 
start.' ' Fortunately for us, a wise providence 
hides these things from us, and with each 
duty, or responsibility, or disappointment there 
comes corresponding strength to endure it. 
Looking at marriage from the young woman's 
side, it is one she must decide by her purpose 
in life. Many young men to-day hesitate to 
marry because so many girls are earning their 
own living, and they know that they can not 
support a wife and give her as much money 
for her own use as she has enjoyed while she 
was working. Yet the true girl or wife will 
never let such considerations influence her; 
but if the love comes from the heart she will 
bravely and without complaint prove her devo- 
tion to the man of her choice by living within 
his income, and, if health permits, even laying 
a little by for a cloudy day. But if a young 
woman's ambition is to dress and to spend a 
husband's money and to attend afternoon clubs 
and other functions that take her time and 
interest from the home, no young man should 
ever enter into such an alliance. Our daily 



170 i,ett£rs to an orphan. 

papers constantly record that many young men 
who meant well have been tempted to steal 
in order to give their extravagant wives the 
money that they almost demanded from them. 
On the other hand, there are so many noble 
women who have lived and fulfilled a career 
that they never could have filled had they 
been tied down by home duties. What woman 
would not envy the useful life of Frances E. 
Willard? Who would not rejoice to have the 
name that has been won by Florence Night- 
ingale, whose voice has thrilled thousands and 
thousands by its power? And in our present 
day, where is a woman who is more revered 
than our own Helen Gould? 

These are all strong characters who have 
remained single, their usefulness not being 
interfered with. They doubtless realized that 
in married life there would have been a re- 
straint and criticism by those who would 
consider that their duties were in their homes ; 
but bravely they have mapped out their courses 
of life ; they have formed their own ideas and 
they have worked up to them, and the world 
has been pleased by the beautiful lives they 



MARRIAGE. 171 

have lived, by the spotless characters they have 
exhibited. 

But these are only a few. In every city 
and a proportionate number throughout the 
whole country are those who have remained 
single from choice. Personally, I have great 
admiration for a good woman who prefers 
to go through life independent of all others, 
making her own living; free to go and come 
when she pleases; asking no one for what 
money she needs; her mind at rest and at 
peace with all mankind ; her rest unbroken by 
late hours and possible jangling or contention, 
and in every way absolutely her own boss. 
Such a woman is brave compared to one who 
marries simply to let the world know that she 
could marry. Let no girl ever get such a 
thought in her head. The only true marriage 
that is recorded in heaven is where heart is 
joined to heart and hand is joined to hand; 
where both live and work for one common 
purpose; where a sorrow of one is a sorrow 
of the other; where a joy of one is a joy of 
the other; and where there is that true con- 
scious purpose in life that makes them feel 
that life is duty, and not altogether beauty. 



UNCROWNED HEROES. 



UNCROWNED HEROES. 

You are familiar with the ancient Grecian 
games, which had much to do with the phys- 
ical development of that historic nation. The 
Grecian sports were a part of the national and 
religious life, and he who won in the contest 
and received the olive wreath was prouder 
than he who captured a city. The highest 
proficiency was required to enable those par- 
ticipants to hope for the crown; and the 
plaudits of the people who greeted them along 
the streets as they sought their homes was, 
indeed, music to their ears. Months of care- 
ful training had fitted them for the contest. 
The winning of the crown, whether olive, pine 
or parsley, was all they wanted. It meant 
glory, and recognition, and the self-satisfac- 
tion which comes from success. 

But I want to call your attention in this 
letter to another class that we have with us 
to-day, who, indeed, run well in the life-race 
before them, but who achieve no earthly appre- 
ciation for service faithfully rendered. They 



176 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

would be entitled to be in a class, all by them- 
selves, of uncrowned heroes. 

If the term hero truly means, as I believe 
it does, "a sincere man," and the term heroine 
"a sincere woman," there have been countless 
thousands who have lived and died unrecog- 
nized and uncrowned. Shall I call their lives 
failures because they have not received worldly 
recognition? Shall I call that mother's life a 
failure who has given all her strength and 
care to the faithful rearing of her children? 
Shall I call that little white-haired woman 
who sits quietly and contentedly in the easy 
chair by the street window, who has raised 
a son who possesses all the noble and manly 
traits that her devotion has inculcated in his 
nature, a failure? Has she given her vigi- 
lance day and night to his constant concern 
with the expectation of earthly recognition? 
Does that son appreciate the sleepless nights 
and the anxious hours that were given in 
devoted attention to that delicate child of hers 
when its life hung in the balance? Methinks 
that little white-haired woman is supremely 
happy in the retrospection of life's work well 



UNCROWNED HEROES. 177 

done and in the contemplation of her son's 
success in life, and the strong character that 
he presents to the world as a result of her 
rigorous discipline and motherly affection. 

There is a class of uncrowned heroes who 
are seldom fully appreciated, considering the 
sacrifices they make in their enforced lone- 
liness. They are the wives of faithful men 
of God, who go here and there preaching the 
Gospel, leaving the wife and little children at 
home, sometimes, for months. Are they any 
less heroes, in rearing noble boys and girls, 
than the soldier who goes to the front ? Then 
think of the widows and orphans that war 
has made ; yet I have never known a widowed 
mother but whose ambition was to rear chil- 
dren that they might be "brave like father/' 

But a few personal allusions will make this 
letter more forcible. And how glad I am that 
you have had personal knowledge of some of 
these beautiful characters to whom I refer. 
And the knowledge of these justify us in say- 
ing that the world is full of heroes who have 
never desired to be recognized by an unsym- 
pathetic world. You have met people, and so 
12 



178 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

have I, who have given you the impression 
that there was nothing whatever in life that 
had ever caused them distress of mind, acute 
physical suffering, or been a weight upon 
their hearts. How little we know about the 
load they were carrying. How many times 
have we struggled to keep the world from 
knowing our own mental agony; and as we 
have thus dissembled, so have others; so that 
I believe I am justified in saying that there is 
not a household in which the members do not 
carry in their hearts and in their minds feel- 
ings that they would keep from the world. 
And perhaps, after all, this is well, as its effect 
is to keep us humble and to cause us to show 
consideration where we might otherwise be 
haughty and uncharitable. 

I call to mind a brother whose life I 
thought had been entirely free from anxiety 
or sorrow. He is a fine, healthy-looking man, 
who always greets you with a smile and has 
a cheerful word. I have often remarked that 
I wished I could be as light-hearted as he. 
Imagine my great surprise and personal grief 
when I learned, in subsequent years, that a 



UNCROWNED H£RO£S. 179 

sorrow had come into his life years ago that 
had nearly crushed his spirit. But for the 
sake of his loved ones he had made a noble 
fight and kept the knowledge of this affair 
from the world; and it was not a matter in 
which he was personally involved, except 
through love for those near and dear to him 
by the ties of blood. 

Another beautiful character that we have 
admired for years is that of "a sister in 
Israel" who has always made us feel that 
her life had been one sweet existence. Her 
letters have always been filled with that spir- 
itual sunshine that made you feel better after 
reading them Her counsel was always wise. 
She wrote and spoke with all the tenderness 
and fervor of a mother. She was liberal with 
the means she possessed, although actually 
existing on less per month than many would 
spend in one week, in order that she might 
have more to give to those who needed it. 
Naturally, I regarded her life as a model life 
and her earthly pilgrimage as almost ideal. 
Yet imagine my surprise and deep sorrow 
when I learned, just recently, the sad life she 



180 JITTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

has had. Now read her own words while she 
tells us, after forty years of such experiences, 
"what her faith means to her": 

"Oh, for language to thunder down the 
ages the almighty things it has done for a 
life lacking only one milestone of reaching the 
allotted threescore years and ten; bereft of 
brother and sister in early years; later, while 
still only thirty, bereft of husband and chil- 
dren, broken-hearted and wrecked in health, 
and handicapped by an affliction that debarred 
me from worldly amusements as well as the 
deeper enjoyment of song, and prayer, and 
sermon. My faith has reconciled me to all 
things, and 

"When I traveled the valley of sorrow, 

So dreary and dark to my view, 
I knew that Jesus was walking beside me, 

And calmly we journeyed it through; 
And now I look back to the valley 

As the richest I ever have trod, 
For I learned there the love of the Father 

And leaned on the arm of my God. 

"And now my greatest regret is that I have 
not the power to lead the sorrowing, suffering 
souls of others to the heights I've reached, 
heights climbed with many backward slides, 



UNCROWNED HEROES. 181 

with heart almost palsied with agony as I felt 
the ingratitude and treachery of friends on 
whom my wealth of love and confidence had 
been unselfishly poured; with eyes blinded by 
tears and feet worn and bleeding with the 
roughness of the way, many times closing my 
eyes with an appeal of anguish that they 
might open in heaven, which was not to be 
yet a little while, until, unaided by human 
hand or sympathy, I should reach the heights 
of perfect trust lighted by the sun of eternal 
faith, and look back over the way I came 
with joy and thanksgiving for the peace it 
has brought me, and the strength and power 
to feel for others and point them to the source 
of my deliverance. I may be a stranger in 
a strange land so far as the possession of 
worldly happiness goes, but, I can be cheerful 
with a cheerfulness born of content with the 
Father's way, no matter how alluring other 
ways may look. I am sure he chooses best, 
and will, as in the past, guide my wayward 
feet and save me from myself. 

"Volumes would not tell all faith has done 
for me, and my daily and hourly prayer is, 



182 I.KTTKRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

it may be my abiding guest while life lasts. 
While people wonder how one in such cir- 
cumstances can be so contented, I am 

" Listening to a voice they can not hear, 
And holding to a hand they can not see." 

Is not that a triumphant song? Yes, more 
than the olive wreath, for her joy reaches 
beyond. 

Yet another case like we meet so many of. 
I have a personal friend who is a kind-hearted 
working girl, who always seems so cheerful. 
I see her every day. I have often admired 
her happy disposition, and yet I learned that 
her life's dream, too, had been an awful 
awakening, and that she was forcing herself 
every hour of her life to appear happy for the 
sake of her sweet little girl of six years, whose 
father had deserted mother and child. We 
who are familiar with city life see so many 
cases like this. 

Now shall I say that these, representatives 
of the human family, are anything less than 
uncrowned heroes? The general, by a fortu- 
nate combination of conditions, may make a 
sudden dash and defeat his enemy or capture 



UNCROWNED HEROES. 183 

the city; the nation rises with one voice of 
praise and he is hailed as a hero. But there 
are those who belong to the great human 
family who have struggled on for years and 
concealed their feelings, who have lived up- 
right lives for the sake of home and country — 
for these, in my judgment, the most glittering 
crown would not do justice to their fidelity. 
Love has been their impelling force, and love 
seeks only its own. 

But there is the personal battle that must be 
fought out by the individual himself. There 
comes a time in the life of every person when 
he must decide between good and bad, and 
his future life will be according to his decision. 
This struggle to control self is, doubtless, the 
fiercest battle that we all must fight. On the 
winning or losing of this struggle depends 
our future — a life of strong character and 
respectability, or a life that means degrada- 
tion and social blight. Every one knows the 
contending forces in his nature. According 
to our strength of will, aided by the Divine 
Force, we must decide, when the crisis comes, 
whether the crown is ours by our triumph 
over self. 



AN EDUCATED WIFE. 



AN EDUCATED WIFE. 

I remember talking to you once about the 
value, or necessity, of womanly accomplish- 
ments — whether or not a woman could fill 
her particular place in life without having the 
same education as her husband. I have had 
a similar conversation with a worthy young 
woman who expected to marry soon. Her 
greatest concern was that she felt so inferior 
to her husband in point of education. I have 
thought of the matter frequently since we 
talked about it, and believe it will serve a 
good purpose to say more on that subject in 
this letter. 

An education often helps only the one who 
possesses it. A man or woman may grad- 
uate from a dozen colleges and yet the world 
never be any better for the knowledge they 
possess. The best educated person is the one 
who knows how and when to use the knowl- 
edge or talent he possesses. To speak directly, 
a woman may have a talent for music and be 
naturally so full of melody that it seems to 



188 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

come from her without her knowing it, and 
the world is blessed by her happy faculty to 
be always singing. Another may be blessed 
with a beautiful face, and if that beautiful 
face is also adorned with a happy expression, 
it will carry sunshine into the life of every soul 
with which it comes in contact. Education 
alone couldn't do that. 

But to get at the matter more directly, let 
me specify a few living examples and see if 
education is a necessity to a happy and suc- 
cessful life. My own father was a man filled 
with an ambition to get to the top of the 
ladder. He succeeded, but not by his own 
efforts alone was he able to reach that point. 
His wife, my mother, was the patient helper 
that was ever ready to stand at his side and 
say, "Husband, I am willing to suffer priva- 
tion for your sake." She was the center of 
home life for the children ; we always went to 
her for help or sympathy and never went to 
father. Yet he was educated and she wasn't. 
But her lack of college training did not make 
her any less a faithful and ready helper in his 
work. 



AN EDUCATED WIM). 189 

My sister was a college graduate. She mar- 
ried a classmate who was a lawyer — one of 
the poor kind, who had to begin at the bot- 
tom. But she pledged her love to him, and 
that meant a willingness to suffer to help him. 
To-day he is a judge, but he did not become 
so through his own efforts alone; he had her 
constant interest to encourage him. And now 
in the cares of a household, what does her 
education amount to? She has forgotten all 
the Latin, Greek and German she ever knew 
and half the other things she learned at col- 
lege. But his success was made possible by 
her entering into the spirit of his work and 
proving herself a true and willing helpmeet. 

These two cases are in our own family; 
one was educated and the other was not, yet 
the two were successful in their particular 
calling. These examples prove that the edu- 
cation of the wife is no factor at all, but the 
secret of their success was in the fact that 
they both had the same purpose in life and 
they pulled together as mates should. 

But let me go further; take other promi- 
nent men. There is Captain Lambert, the 



190 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

postmaster; who ever heard anything about 
his wife's education? There is Dr. Moncrief ; 
what value has his wife's education been to the 
world? Take Dr. Ward, whom you know as 
a great editor ; his wife is one of the humblest 
of women, but thoroughly good. Yet I don't 
know how much of an education she ever 
had. You never heard anything about the 
education of the wives of Talmadge, Beecher, 
Spurgeon, Gladstone, Garfield, McKinley, and 
hundreds of others that you can call to mind. 

No, my dear child, the head of the house- 
hold is not usually conspicuous by reason of 
her mental development or possession of 
knowledge, or higher education, as some call 
it. Her power is in her influence. Which 
would you prefer, to have a diploma from 
some big college, or to hold a powerful influ- 
ence for good over your husband? There is 
your stronghold, if you will retain it. 

But now I want to speak in a personal way. 
Suppose, for the sake of making it plainer 
and more to the point, that you were my wife. 
Suppose I should come home at night and tell 
you a tale of misfortune — that some one had 



AN EDUCATED WIFE. 191 

been trying to injure my character. What do 
you think would give me the more help and 
strength, to have you go and get a Greek 
book or a Latin oration, or to have you give 
me those expressions of fidelity and endear- 
ment that could make me strong enough and 
brave enough to face the whole world? Of 
what use would your education be at such a 
time? 

Again, suppose I should come home with a 
broken limb. What would be of more service 
at such a time, ,a finished education, or a 
tender and gentle hand that could nurse the 
patient back to strength and give him patience 
in his suffering? 

Suppose, again, that I should have all my 
property swept away by business failure. If 
you were educated you might think that my 
failure had disgraced you. But if you pos- 
sessed the spirit of unwavering love you would 
say, "My dear, I am ready and willing to 
start over and help you even harder than in 
the past." Of what value would your edu- 
cation be in all these extremities? None 
whatever. 



192 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

And again, on the other hand, suppose I 
should be prospered with your help and pos- 
sess an abundance of everything. You would 
then be so occupied in doing good to others 
and helping deserving friends and neighbors 
that you would never think about your edu- 
cation. You would be happy in your con- 
sciousness of blessing your fellow beings. 

No, no, the home ties are love, love, love. 
Give me a wife whose full and confiding love 
I possess absolutely, and the others can have 
their educated wives. I want a wife that has 
a word of welcome, and an affectionate nature 
that makes me feel her sympathy, and a smile 
that makes me rejoice in her presence, and an 
influence that will draw every one to her. If 
a wife has all these blessings, and knows her 
power over her husband, would she trade them 
for a higher education? 



A VISION OF LIFE. 



13 



A VISION OF LIFE. 

A mother is bending over the cradle of her 
first born. For six months she has been the 
happiest woman in all the world. There had 
been times when she had thought she could 
not be happier, but this experience had brought 
her the greatest joy her life had ever known. 

As she contemplated the silent features of 
her child, she was impressed with the fact 
that man, the most wonderful of all God's 
creative beings, is, in his infancy, the most 
helpless of them all. 

She watched the breathing of her child. 
She placed her hand gently on its soft, tender 
cheek and seemed to throw the whole force 
of her personality into the heart and life of 
that tender plant. While beholding her child, 
in this reflective state of mind, the little babe 
awoke, and seeing its mother near it, beamed 
forth a sweet smile. The doting mother was 
overjoyed at this welcome awakening, and, 
seizing the babe from its cradle, pressed it 
close to her bosom and fairly smothered it 



196 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

with kisses. Having satisfied herself in this 
way, she laid the babe again tenderly on its 
pillow and seated herself on the edge of the 
couch in rapt devotion and admiration. Time 
after time she leaned forward and pressed a 
mother's kiss upon its happy face, and was 
rewarded each time with a sweet smile and 
an effort to coo. 

In a few moments the mother's manner 
changed somewhat and she became deeply 
serious. She asked herself the question, "Am 
I too happy?" and for fear she might suffer 
the loss of this earth's happiest blessing she 
resolved that she would not give way entirely 
to her personal pleasure over the child, but 
look to matters that pertained to the child's 
future welfare and happiness. She realized 
and had always felt that in any position of 
service she had ever held, she had done her 
work faithfully and thoroughly, and was sat- 
isfied and happy that in her service at home, 
under her mother's discipline, she had been a 
faithful and obedient daughter. But now, as 
she sat contemplating her child on the pillow, 
she was made to feel that, while she had been 



A VISION OF Utffi. 197 

faithful in all her own personal service, her 
greatest duty and her greatest responsibility 
was just ahead of her in the care and training 
of her child. As she thought of these things 
and associated her own early years with the 
later events of her life, she could see, as in a 
dream, what she hoped would be the future 
of her beautiful child. She beheld it in all 
of its helplessness and purity as it lay before 
her, with no sense of fear, no realization of 
anything more than to feel hungry and be 
satisfied. Then she saw the child when it 
reached that peroid when it would be able to 
say, "I loves oo, mamma," just as she had 
heard her mother tell of her own first words. 
This thought then led her to think that soon 
this little tender bundle of flesh would be 
able to communicate its thoughts to her. The 
anticipation seemed to overwhelm her sym- 
pathetic and emotional nature. "Oh, I just 
fear," she said, "that something awful will 
happen to take this darling from me." Then 
she said, "I mustn't think of that. I must 
consider only my personal duty," and with a 
silent prayer to God to give her help and 



198 IvSTTERS to AN ORPHAN. 

strength she made a silent vow that that babe 
should have the constant devotion of her 
entire life. "Just think," she said aloud to 
herself, "it won't be long until he can talk, 
and it will be only a few days, seemingly, until 
he will be ready for school. Oh, dear, what 
will I do when he gets out with all the com- 
mon children and learns their mischievous 
ways, and comes under the influence of wicked 
words and the children of careless mothers ?" 
She could see him starting out to school led 
by the hand of one of the older neighbor chil- 
dren. Through all these six years of constant 
almost hourly, care she had kept her child 
from all except the tenderest expressions of 
love from mother, father and the immediate 
family. The child was obedient in every point 
where a child of that age can learn obedience. 
He came to his mother with every little detail 
and told her every word he had heard from 
the lips of others, and buried his head in her 
lap when his heart had been almost broken 
by the imagined injuries by playmates; had 
cuddled down in her arms when weary with 
play, and had gone off into sweet dreams 



A VISION Otf LIM). 199 

when his eyelids had closed in childhood's 
sweet sleep. 

But now this day had ended, and he must, 
in his childhood ways, go out into the world. 
The first hour that her babe was out of her 
sight receiving the simplest instructions in the 
school room the mother's mind was moment- 
arily with her child, wondering what he was 
doing and what he was learning, but fearing 
and dreading most of all the first impressions 
that would be made on his young life by the 
things he would see and hear from others. 
She knew that that child would not come 
back to her just the same sweet child he was 
when he left her that morning. She knew 
from her own experience that he would sooner 
or later develop a tendency to no longer tell 
mother everything and make her the confidant 
as in his early childhood days. She knew, 
also, that he would pick up little innocent 
forms of deception. And all of this filled her 
with dread as she contemplated her responsi- 
bility during the next twenty years of her 
boy's life. 

Then she could see him as he reached the 



200 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

age when he would mingle with other young 
people; when he would be forming associa- 
tions altogether to his own liking; when he 
wouldn't consult his mother as to this friend 
and that one, but regard himself competent to 
select friends according to his own personal 
liking. She realized the danger of this and 
studied how she might still hold him under 
her influence. She believed she could do it. 
"With God's help I will try it, and if I bring 
him up realizing that his welfare is my first 
and only thought; that I think more of his life 
than I do of my own; that I am willing to 
sacrifice everything that I have for his own 
good; and by other exhibitions of affection 
make him feel, as well as know, that my heart 
truly yearns for him in his manhood days as 
much as it did in his baby life, perhaps I can 
hold him under my power." She recalled, 
during this retrospection, the failure, as she 
considered it, of the mothers of some of her 
associates, who had practically turned their 
boys and girls over to the world when they 
had reached the age of fourteen or fifteen. 
"How strange," reflected this mother, "that 



A VISION otf LIFE. 201 

our mothers are so thoughtless of their chil- 
dren at the very time of all their lives when 
they need the mother's most thoughtful care 
and direction. Why will so many parents 
deliberately let their children blunder onto 
things that ought to be taught them as faith- 
fully as they are taught to reverence and wor- 
ship the God of heaven ?" And then she 
breathed another prayer, "Oh, God in heaven, 
protect this child of mine from the awful 
temptations that I have endured.' ' 

Again the hourglass turns and she beholds 
him assuming the responsibilities of life. 
"Oh, if I could only see what kind of a wife 
he will select, I could tell what kind of a man 
he will be. Oh, if the girls and women only 
knew the power they have over their hus- 
bands, how much more would they exert it 
for good instead of for evil or mere passing 
fancies! It gives me more pleasure to have 
my husband say I have helped him than to 
say that I look beautiful. But if this boy of 
mine should marry a careless or fickle-minded 
girl, all of my care will have been for nought. 
All of this devotion that I am now bestow- 



202 USTTSRS TO AN ORPHAN. 

ing upon this dear creature will have been 
wasted." Then she caught herself and cor- 
rected her feelings by saying, "No, that can 
not be. If I make this child of mine carry 
the impress in his heart and life of all that 
I am trying to give him, he can not do other- 
wise than associate with good girls and choose 
a noble character for his companion. My 
duty is to form this child's character so that 
nothing in this world can move him. I can 
do it by firmness, all the while maintaining 
that tenderness and impressing that sincere 
love that he even now realizes when he gives 
me these dear, sweet smiles. This child shall 
never depart from my influence, because I will 
make him my daily thought and prayer, and 
he shall grow more and more in the perfect 
likeness that I want him to possess." 

Again she sees him a young man, respected 
by church and society, not any better than 
some others, but as good as the best. She 
sees others that have grown up with him that 
can be said to be living, but that is about all. 
She asks the question, "Why the difference?" 
She answers her own question, "Because I 



A VISION OF I.IF£. 203 

have made my boy the work of my entire life. 
These others have let their children shift for 
themselves. Some of them have turned out 
better than was expected. Others that had a 
good start and good parents relied too much 
on their parentage and made no headway." 
But here she saw her babe in the enjoyment 
of his own home, blessed with a true, noble 
woman, whose idea of life was to be useful 
rather than beautiful, and yet who became 
more beautiful each day because of the beau- 
tiful life she was living, and because of the 
positive influence she was exerting. She sees 
him surrounded with loving children happy in 
the enjoyment of their home, as her little babe 
was in the blessing of his home. She sees 
these children, who now call her "grandma," 
growing and budding into beautiful, unfold- 
ing characters, and she finds her life blessed 
in knowing that her diligence has contributed 
to the blessing enjoyed by her son in these 
obedient children that he is now training. 

In her dream she takes her son again on 
her lap as she used to, and, looking into his 
manly eyes, her own eyes fill with joyful tears 



204 k£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

as she tells him again and again, as she so 
often did in his childhood days, " My son, you 
don't know how I watched, and worked, and 
prayed to make you the good man you are. 
I couldn't have done it in my own strength,, 
but God gave me the strength. I used to tell 
you then that you were too young to know 
it, but some day you would know, and while 
you may think that I am foolish, now that 
I am a grandmother, to talk in this way, I 
want you to feel even yet, as you always 
have, that you are never too old to do with- 
out your mother's counsel; and when, before 
many years, you will be able to find the silver 
threads among the gold, you can feel com- 
forted in knowing that your conduct has never 
at any time brought any gray hairs to your 
old mother's head. I look back, I believe, over 
the happiest life ever lived by any mother, and 
I want this blessing transmitted to you, to 
your faithful wife, and to your loved ones." 
She started up. Her child was asleep. 
"Why, what a funny day dream I have been 
having — a regular vision of life. May God 
cause it to be as I have seen it." 



IDEALIZING THE REAL. 



IDEALIZING THE REAL. 

I am indebted to you for this subject: "If 
we can not realize our ideal, then let us idealize 
the real." I thank you for the subject. 

What a happy world this would be if we 
could always rise above our environment! It 
is most unfortunate that some people make 
the whole world miserable because of their 
irritable state of mind. Most of us are alone 
responsible for our mental condition. In our 
present day the majority of children are 
spoiled for future life by being humored and 
pampered. They get nearly everything they 
want, and this gratification woefully unfits 
them for life. As they grow older this trait 
becomes more firmly fixed. Nothing moves 
just right unless it moves for their individual 
benefit. Nothing is said or done just right 
unless it is done entirely to their liking. This 
ag-gravates and often starts trouble, which 
might be avoided if the children had been 
properly reared. As a natural result, children 
to-day form their ideals, and make everybody 



208 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

miserable if their ideals are not realized. The 
thought of submitting to others, or of adjust- 
ing themselves to enforced conditions, never 
occurs to them. Naturally, their acquired, 
arrogant manner makes them disliked by all 
and unfits them for a companionship that all 
should look forward to. 

On the other hand, if these same people 
could have been trained to adjust themselves 
to necessary conditions and would set about 
to find actual pleasure in the changed con- 
ditions, it would not only prove a comfort 
to themselves, but make them agreeable asso- 
ciates. One of the strongest characters with 
whom I am acquainted is a good Christian 
mother, now in middle life, whom I met in 
Indiana. She has raised a family of three 
children and has seen them all become Chris- 
tians. This woman's early married life was 
so strenuous that the average woman would 
have shrunk from it in dismay and gone back 
to her mother. This model woman had the 
entire charge of the housework on a large 
farm, with all the hard labor connected there- 
with, and only a growing daughter to help 



IDEALIZING, THE) RBAIy. 209 

her. Four and five hungry men had to be 
fed three and four times a day, with the chil- 
dren to be dressed and sent to school. All 
the crocks, bottles and pans required by a 
large dairy had to be cleaned and scalded 
twice a day ; and yet that well-balanced woman 
was, I believe, the most cheerful and good- 
natured wife I ever knew. The sudden arrival 
of company would not give her the least dis- 
tress. She would immediately say something 
to make everybody laugh. If they came in 
at meal time, she had that rare, resourceful 
faculty of getting an abundance together, so 
that all could be well supplied from her table. 
She set about her work as free from worry 
and anxiety as a child plays with its toys, 
and everything she did turned out just right. 
Every act of labor by her was performed with 
as much merriment and personal pleasure as 
would be found at an old-fashioned picnic. It 
was a pleasure to be in her house, as she was 
always the same at all times. I never knew 
her to exhibit impatience or displeasure. I 
know, too, from my own visiting in her home, 
that that woman had just as many things on 

14 



210 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

her heart and mind as the average woman. 
Although she is now only in middle life, she 
has been gray for several years, indicating 
that matters, that weighed on her heart and 
were kept from the household, had left their 
impress. She carried them as her own per- 
sonal burdens, and her children never dreamed 
but that she was as free from anxiety as they 
were. She had the happy faculty of rising 
above her environment, of adjusting herself to 
the needs of her household. Encouraged by 
her cheerful aid, her husband could perform 
his duties with a happiness and lightness of 
heart that would make him the envy of his 
neighbors. So I can truly say that this ad- 
justable woman has made an impression on 
others that has reached far beyond her family 
circle. 

She was one woman in ten thousand, and I 
can easily imagine that some would say that 
such a rare creature does not exist. But she 
most certainly does, and although she may be 
a most remarkable exception to the general 
rule, nevertheless I believe that many more 
of our women could be like her if they could 



IDEALIZING THE REAL. 211 

school themselves to adjust themselves to nec- 
essary conditions. She was an example of 
idealizing the real. 

It isn't our good women alone who are 
included in this subject, but the sterner sex 
must come in for the part they must play in 
helping to idealize the real. I don't know 
how many homes either of us could count 
where there has been, every day for years, 
the ideal domestic condition. The old saying 
is that "the course of true love never did run 
smooth," and as it requires two to make a 
quarrel, it is often possible for the second one 
to not only dispel the approaching shadow of 
a coming quarrel, but also to drop a remark 
or get off a joke, so that what might have 
led to angry words may result in a convulsion 
of laughter. A person, to possess this faculty, 
must be an adept in idealizing the real. 

Many men in business have long learned 
that if their ambitions have not been realized, 
they have made an honest effort. They have 
worked early and late and have been nobly 
supported by thoughtful, sympathetic wives. 
The aspirations they have had, the things they 



212 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

have coveted, have perhaps not been realized, 
but happy are the man and wife who can 
adjust themselves to the pleasures and com- 
forts of home life, and find in each other's 
society all that makes life worth while and the 
practical idealization of the real. 



FRIEND, SWEETHEART, WIFE. 



FRIEND, SWEETHEART, WIFE. 

As I pen this last letter to you my thoughts 
go back over a period of fifteen years or 
more, covering our acquaintance. I knew you 
as a child in your own home and in the Sun- 
day school, of which you were a faithful 
attendant. I watched your gradual develop- 
ment from childhood to girlhood and from 
girlhood to young womanhood; and when, 
ten years ago, you started out on a business 
career, I could but think of you as still the 
child I had known years before. We are only 
enabled to realize the fleetness of time when 
we see those who were once children devel- 
oping into full-grown boys and girls, young 
men and women. 

I do not suppose any one of all your friends 
enjoyed your confidence as completely as I 
did, and naturally many things that entered 
into my own life were known to you only 
and sacredly guarded; though in doing so 
you went contrary to all tradition concerning 



216 Iv£TOT)RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

woman's ability, or inability, to keep matters 
to herself. 

I have watched you with almost fatherly 
anxiety in the formation of new friendships, 
knowing how they are bound to influence a 
young and impressionable life. All of us are 
disappointed in some associations we form, 
but with the experience we gain we are the 
better able to exercise caution and wisdom in 
the few intimate friendships that all persons 
should have. It is oftentimes necessary, and 
an advantage, to have an extensive acquaint- 
ance, and "he who would have friends must 
show himself friendly"; but we can all reserve 
the personal privilege of electing as few as 
we wish to membership in the inner circle of 
chosen and particular friends. 

Every young girl draws a picture, or builds 
an air castle, of her future life. She will 
expect certain events to transpire as naturally 
as the days come and go. She even antici- 
pates the time when she will have a castle 
of her own and be queen of her own realm. 
She even anticipates and provides things that 
will be useful and needful in her new sphere. 



FRIEND, SWEETHEART, WIFE. 217 

Sometimes these castles will tumble, and joy 
and anticipation will be forced to give way 
to sorrow and vanished hopes; yet most of us 
are kept content with the thought that some 
day our desires will be gratified and our 
hopes realized; and with these meditations we 
keep constantly alive the hope which, the poet 
says, "springs eternal in the human breast." 
The transition period comes ; we form closer 
friendships. This person appeals to us as 
worthy; and what was simply platonic friend- 
ship develops into something of a more heart- 
felt nature. This may thrive for a period 
and sometimes vanish. Others come into our 
lives that appeal to us in a stronger degree. 
These friendships may sometimes be numer- 
ous before we are sure we have found the one 
that could be in every sense a true partner in 
all of the experiences of life. The wisdom 
which comes with mature years enables us 
to form the association that bids fair to be 
blessed with all things that should make life 
one grand, sweet song. The chosen one is no 
longer regarded simply as a friend, but has 
suddenly become a sweetheart, a term that is 



218 LETTERS TO AN ORPHAN. 

too often lightly used. How things do change 
when this period has arrived! 

Instead of the humdrum monotony of life 
there is unconsciously a love song running 
through our mind and often slipping from 
our lips. The whole world seems changed. 
Our hearts go out in affection to everybody. 
We are learning the real meaning of life in 
all its original purity and fullness. Oh, if we 
could only remain that way! 

It was but natural, when I learned of your 
decision to assume the responsibility of a wife, 
to inwardly hope and pray that you might 
have the strength and patience to prove the 
very best wife in all the world. When I 
recall your faithful service and how you 
constantly labored for the interest of your 
employer, I was made to feel that if you 
proved as willing a helper to your life com- 
panion he would, indeed, be of all men most 
blessed. Fortunately, you have had oppor- 
tunity to observe much of life in every phase, 
and are thus prepared to meet many expe- 
riences with a foreknowledge that will make 
many things easier for you. 



FRI^ND^ SWEETHEART, WIFE. 219 

But I want to speak of one or two other 
matters of greater importance. At all times 
consider your influence over your household. 
A woman of tact and judgment can oftentimes 
save herself many days of bitter tears. Abso- 
lute confidence and sincerity are necessary 
requisites to continued peace and happiness. 
Deception in any form will come out sooner 
or later. Let your influence be that sweet 
womanly goodness that will make you the 
only creature in all the world to your hus- 
band. Do not attempt to meet the battles of 
life alone; you must have God's help for the 
duties and trials of each day. Unless He is 
the silent partner of your life, you will expe- 
rience many failures. Think not of the past, 
but live for the present and the future. Be 
true to the friends you have who are worthy 
of your friendship, but do not seek for many 
friends simply to be popular. Your time and 
your affection belong to your husband. Think 
of him first and last. With hearts truly 
welded together, as I believe yours are, time 
only can reveal the real strength of your love 
for each other. With the development of the 



220 Iv£TT£RS TO AN ORPHAN. 

spiritual affection you should be dearer to 
each other and appreciate each other more 
with each succeeding day. Circumstances may 
separate you for a time, but this separation 
should only intensfy your affection. As hus- 
band and wife you should grow in all that is 
true and beautiful as naturally as a Christian 
is expected to grow in grace and in the 
knowledge of his Lord and Savior, so that 
when the end of the race is run you can feel 
that you are entitled to the perfect home that 
belongs to the children of God. 

But, in conclusion, I want to speak of the 
grandest privilege that a happy wife can 
have. If God in his wisdom sees fit to bless 
you with a sweet messenger of love and 
peace, I am sure you will not shrink from 
the responsibility placed upon you. Indeed, I 
have every reason to believe that you would 
give it the strongest affection and care within 
your ability, and I am sure, with the train- 
ing you have had, you will guide aright any 
precious life that may be intrusted to your 
care. I am sure you will draw it to your 
heart, and with its every breath instil into its 



FRIEND, SW££TH£ART, wiF£. 221 

life that strong mother love that will guide 
it safely in later years and cause it to seek 
mother's counsel and protection. Such rays 
of sunshine in a home can dispel the deepest 
gloom. Yet, should there be moments of sud- 
den irritability, provocations that may upset, 
temporarily, the harmonies of the household, 
these can easily and quickly be met and 
smoothed over because of the sweet, smiling 
face that looks up into the eyes of mother 
and father, and says in its baby language, 
"I love you both." Many times what some 
families regard as a bone of contention, or 
as an undesirable intruder, may be made the 
peacemaker, the dove divine, that can bring 
about concord of love and a sweet harmony, 
without which the battle of life would be only 
monotonous discord. 

May Heaven bless you in all of the present 
and future responsibilities that you may have 
to meet. 



DEC 29 1911 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce* 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 

PreservationTechnologie 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATK 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 



One copy del. to Oat. Div. 
DEC 31 'Sit 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




013 610 529 2 £ 



